


Reactivation

by Disfordevineaux



Category: Carmen Sandiego (Cartoon 2019)
Genre: Action, Angst, Drama, Gen, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Mental Health Issues, Multi, Mystery, Personal Growth, Platonic Relationships, Redemption, Spies & Secret Agents, bi character(s)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-04
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:48:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 74,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22113610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Disfordevineaux/pseuds/Disfordevineaux
Summary: "Think you can bring the heat, Agent Devineaux?"A Chase Devineaux focused storySet after S2. Later seasons (3 onwards) will not affect the story.
Relationships: Julia "Jules" Argent & Chase Devineaux, Julia "Jules" Argent/Chase Devineaux
Comments: 52
Kudos: 90





	1. The Suit

**Author's Note:**

> Hello and welcome to my first Carmen Sandiego story. It is set right after the end of episode 10 season 2 and will follow Chase Devineaux as the main character. I hope you enjoy what I have to offer.
> 
> At the moment and for at least the majority of THIS story, there will only be platonic relationships/friendships and/or minimal 'romantic' interactions.

### Chapter 1 - The Suit

"Think you can bring the heat, _Agent_ Devineaux?"

A devilish smile curled along Chase's half-shaven face. Hearing his name alongside agent once again reignited the burning passion snubbed out by paperwork and 5 days stranded on an island. Before he was given time to answer, the other end went dead. A low beep from his phone slowly faded away as he lowered it from his ear. He glanced triumphantly at his partly woolly appearance in the mirror before almost throwing his phone across the tiles with excitement.

"HA HA! YES!"

He slapped the side of his sink, sending hair filled shaving cream up into the air.

"I will be the one to find you Carmen Sandiego. ME!"

Chase pointed to himself in the mirror before spinning around skidding out of the bathroom. He emerged out into his living space, strewn with an embarrassingly gigantic, but organised, mess that amounted to being nothing more than a colossal waste of time and resources. Bits of red string, articles, documents, notes, pins and forms littered the space one could call home if you squinted hard enough.

Striding to the dining table he turned into a work desk, Chase planted his palms down, looking up at his failed attempt at a solo investigation. He pressed his fingertips into the wood, forcing himself to look at the mess he created sternly.

"Me."

Chase murmured as if the papers openly whispered between themselves, mocking him. They flapped lightly in response, it merely the breeze coming in from the window.

This was his chance to regain what he had lost. His belief in himself that he was good enough had been too long left uncertain. Recognition for his work was on the horizon, like he once had, years ago. The pursuit of such fantasies made him desperate, impulsive and angry.

He ripped each paper down one by one, throwing them in a pile on the desk. With the papers now scattered on the table, Chase dragged his arm across, everything collapsing messily to the floor, his way of cleaning the slate.

The map was now blank except for a red circle in marker surrounding the island. As if in a rage-filled haze, he gritted his teeth. Slamming his fist against the corkboard, ripping the map down in shreds. He went next for the red string attached to the board, hacking it violently off the walls in disgust at such a ridiculous failure. Within what felt like seconds, Chase had stripped all surrounding walls of all red, only a few sticky notes and documents remaining, dotting the grey walls of his apartment in white and yellow.

He felt like he hadn't moved an inch but it was clear he'd scrambled around the room in a daze. Chase stepped back, instinctively sitting down in the single dining chair he had always placed to the side, defeated. He looked up at the now blank corkboard listening to his heart pounding in his ears. Running a hand through his hair he leaned back, slowing moving it down to feel his cheek, the one still unshaven. He was beside himself at his choices. Disjointed at the steps he took. Ashamed at what was once before, what occurred now, yet knowing it was unavoidable. Chase was vividly aware that it was all he was capable of. A certainty of fate. It would be a waste of time expecting a different outcome when the path to it was always the same. 

It was 11.18 pm in Poitiers. The moon was full, night air wonderfully crisp in comparison to the stuffy apartment Devineaux returned to early that evening. The second he walked through the door after claiming the spare key from his landlord, was a God awful smell.

On the counter remained the untouched shopping he did the afternoon before he left for what he thought was Carmen's/VILE'S HQ. The food was rotten and soft. Its stench filled every crevice of his home meaning he was forced to open every window he could. Everything was covered in an even thickener film of dust, which when disturbed danced merrily through the single beam of light that shone up at the wall. It was produced by the last working light source in the entire living room. His desk lamp, which he forcibly migrated out from his bedroom once every normal switch light decided to die on him. He was a busy man who had no time to replace globes.

As an added insult to injury, Chase had also once again lost his favourite brown coat, the one lined with on the red inside. He was going to try and by another, again, but he felt it had officially lost its charm. It wasn't special to him anymore, especially since Julia so nicely pointed out its lack of luck as a little jab at his expense. Although deserved, it still stung.

The moment he was carted back to civilisation he was thrown into the hospital, to his dismay. Chase was forced to waste 2 miserable days of his life there. Every doctor and nurse around took ample samples of his blood to make sure he hadn't contracted some contagious island disease. Not that he cared at the time. At that point, he would have been glad to have been afflicted and even die of some obscure virus. At least then he'd be known for something interesting. Other than being the idiot Frenchman who was found burning down an island off the coast of East Africa with no explanation to being there other than 'because he felt like it'. As Chase not so delicately put it.

A muffled hum of an overly loud vibration ringtone broke him from his thoughts. The sound beckoned from the bathroom as he stood to meet it. Facedown on the black tiles was his phone. It rumbling as he plucked it off the floor, not remembering leaving it there.

 **Unknown**. It read, still vibrating in his hand.

He answered it. A monotone male voice spoke in broken, horribly jarring French the moment he accepted the call.

"Agent Devineaux. Tomorrow morning at 6.45am you will receive you're ACME issued suit and relevant equipment. Further intrusions will follow upon collection."

The call cut off leaving him again with a low beep. He was finally getting his ACME suit. Chase shoved his phone into his back pocket gripping the sink. It was officially happening. He smiled down into the sink, the grin quickly disappearing. The razor he threw in there earlier could be seen poking out of the water that was covered in a coating of shaving cream. Carefully, he pulled it out with two fingers inspecting it then gazing up at his reflection. It was his last razor. He cupped his unshaven cheek and sighed.

"ACME better give me a good discount on an electric razor."

Chase grumbled to himself in his native tongue as he angrily washed it clean, trying not to slice his fingers.

* * *

He didn't sleep at all that night. He never really slept like a normal adult would conventionally. Not that he could. He had extended naps at best, often in the early hours of the morning until dawn.

Chase sat on the edge of his made compactly bed in the dark, brooding of sorts. The only light streaming in through his bedroom floor to ceiling windows from the early morning sun that begun to spill over the parallel buildings. He had his elbows on his knees clasping his hands together. Back arched, his head an inch from his thumb staring between his feet as a few strands of freshly cut and washed hair bounced with him, still stuck together like a crispy branch. Chase shook his heel as one does as a nervous diversion. The movement vibrated his entire body, distracting him with nice soothing rhythm.

After finishing shaving his face, Chase knew he couldn't show up with a mop of hair atop his head. Luckily there was quite a bit of nightlife during the summer nights in Poitiers. Thanks to it being the tourist season. Thus finding a barber was relatively easy, even during the middle of the night. He had it cut short back and sides, leaving the top longer and layered like he always did. After another shower to wash all the hair away and waste some time he got redressed in a formal shirt, pants and shoes. By then it was only 12.47am. There was no point putting on his work attire if he was getting his ACME suit.

Taking his medication at 4.30am meant he couldn't drink immediately before or after, despite wanting to terribly. Chase would have killed for a pure room temperature scotch. Or anything at that matter. He couldn't even eat a mint to suppress his cravings for a cigarette as he had none left. So he had to just wait, watching the time tick along from his phone. At least he felt slightly better, very slightly.

The Zoloft he was prescribed years earlier worked in mysterious ways and often left him with headaches. He was told it would help him sleep if needed but it never did, in fact, it did the opposite. Chase no longer cared about that fact. He continued to keep his prescription as they gave him energy and a heightened level of confidence in the wake of particular events. 

Ever since he was shipped down to Poitiers from Paris 3 years ago, he continued to maintain his prescription without prompt. At first, it was hard to adjust. But after a period of constant use, he was familiar with the side effects, them becoming a normal part of his solitary life.

Chase twisted his head to the side where his phone sat. The basic display was on, showing the time of 6.43am. 2 minutes to go. Chase huffed angrily, cursing in French under his breath snatching up his phone. His patience had fully eroded down to the bone by 1 am, standing up and heading for the front door.

The living room was bright thanks to him leaving the curtains open. The morning sun shone straight through and into the hall kitchen. He leant his lower back against the counter and held his phone in his hands. The key to his front door sat beside him ready for action.

**6.44am**

He wasn't nervous per se, just, excited, elated even. Motivated and ripe with the anticipation of what was to come.

**6.45am**

Chase almost dropped his phone, instead, sliding it onto the kitchen counter replacing it with the key. He stared at the door, waiting.

Nothing.

Chase felt his temper boil deep in his stomach, thumb pressing on the length of the key.

_They said 6.45 and yet it is 6.45 and they are not here. What kind of fool do they take me for?_

Chase shouted to himself within the confines of his mind.

Just as the time changed to 6.46, two decisive knocks rattled his front door. As if startled, Chase managed to accidentally bend the key with his thumb in response. Chase swore loudly beginning to scramble to bend it back and unlock the door. He was always the bane of his own existence. Shoving the half-bent key into the lock he flung open the door dramatically for no real reason.

"I was told 6.45 and it is now 6.46 what is the point of giving me a specific time if you can not even abide by it yourself?!"

Chase's loud lecture on punctuality echoed down the empty staircase that separated each apartment. The suited man he yelled at simply remained still. The space between them turned to a cold judging silence until he frowned. He moved his arms out towards Chase revealing what he was holding, keeping his brows furrowed with displeasure. In one hand was a long black zippered garment bag and a briefcase in the other.

"Further instructions are inside."

His voice was the same as the one who called him the night before except this time his tone resembled someone who was clearly annoyed. Chase quickly grabbed the handles of each, curling the garment bag around his arm. The agent said nothing, turned and walked away before down the stairs until out of sight.

Shuffling back inside, he couldn't shut the door fast enough. As if his life depended upon it Chase made his way back to the bedroom dropping the briefcase off on the table as he went classifying it unimportant for now. Chase placed the bag onto his bed, straightening it out. Its weight pushing itself into the soft coverlet. Without hesitation, he unzipped it.

Inside was a perfectly dark navy, almost black well-cut suit along with a tie, a belt, gloves and shoes. Each piece hung on its own staggering hanger, explaining the weight. Removing each layer from the bag and setting it aside, all that was left was the suit. Carefully, Chase scooped it out of its protector, lifting it up to bask in the morning light as if revelling in the sight of his newborn child. He giggled breathlessly, enjoying the sheer quality of material that blessed his touch. It was everything he had hoped for and more.

Chase began to undress as fast as he could, throwing his 'everyday citizens' clothes into a pile on the floor as if to shame them. By the time it hit 6.50 he was fully dressed in his ACME issued suit and affects. He made sure to admire himself in the full-length mirror in his room for a good while absolutely impressed. He couldn't get over how perfectly everything fit. The gloves alone were a marvel. How they were able to make some big enough for his hands without being too long in the fingers or too tight in the palms were beyond him. He curled his fingers into a fist, the leather squeaking as he clenched, it was euphoric. Chase felt like he'd never looked better, that nothing could take this feeling away.

Chase entered his living room to open the briefcase after it finally popped back up in his thoughts. It sat, waiting for him on the table he had pushed up against the wall. Pressing his thumbs to the metal buttons, the lid popped. Inside was a neat, packed in black foam display of his new hardware and a small thick white piece of paper resting on top. For now, he was more interested in the items than the note, placing it to the side.

Packed safely within were a few familiar gadgets like the pen and key card but it also had some new additions. Adding to the assortment of goodies was a silver-rimmed watch, glasses and a gas gun. The watch instantly caught his eye. He'd always wanted a fancy watch but never was able to afford one. Wrapping it around his wrist he inspected it, noticing that it wasn't any ordinary watch. Its face resembled a typical analog style but the glass above it was thicker, clearly a touch screen.

Chase tapped it a few times, hoping he was right, and he was. The clock face faded away into black, before displaying a small message in white that slid across the screen:

**Hello, Agent Devineaux.**

Chase was positivity beside himself, utterly wrapped at his new gadget, it even knew his name.

_Amazing._

Before he went too deep playing with his new watch, he managed to snap himself back onto task. He slipped his pen and card into his front shirt pocket, leaving the gun where it was for now and picked up the paper. The front-facing side was blank but when flipping it oversaw an inscription that simply read:

**Hôtel de Ville, Poitiers, France, June 29th, 10am**

Chase scoffed.

"THAT tourist attraction AND in summer? They must be joking!"

He flicked the paper in disgust talking out loud to himself.

"At least they didn't send me to St.Pierre Cathedral, that place is littered with Americans this time of year."

His accent thickened the angrier he became. As he went to throw it down in repugnance, the paper suddenly burst into a quick hot flame. Startled he dropped it, causing it to spin as it brunt completely, dissolved by the time it hit the floor.

Chase huffed, shoving the tip of his new shoes into the ash now further dirtying his carpet.

"As if I didn't already haVE ENOUGH TO CLEAN AROUND HERE? WHY MUST YOU BURN IT? YOU COMMUNICATE WITH HOLOGRAMS FOR GOD'S SAKE! WHY USE PAPER AND FIRE?"

Chase screamed at the ceiling above in pure anguish as a loud thump answered back.

"Tais-toi Devineaux, putain d'idiot!"

His neighbour yelled back with just as much gusto, stomping on what was their floor, to his ceiling. Chase screwed up his face, a second away from punching through the ceiling and strangling his long-time neighbour.

"Pourquoi tu ne viens pas me dire ça en face plutôt qu'à travers le sol, espèce de lâche!"

He bellowed back. Chase waited for a response but heard nothing. Feeling as if he had won, he adjusted his jacket before running a gloved hand through his hair.

He sighed dramatically shutting the case, leaving the gun inside. He desperately needed a drink. Looking back at his watch he surveyed the time, it was 6.58am, 4 hours and 2 minutes before he was to meet, whoever he was at the city hall. It was also past the 2 hour mark since he had his medication meaning he could drink.

This wasn't based upon a proper medical professionals opinion but just his own self researched diagnosis after much trial and error. What he took didn't mix well with liquor. It took 2 hours minimum for any alcohol consumption to not send him into a stupor or an early death once he has taken his medication.

Sauntering into the kitchen, Chase opened a top cupboard reaching up to grab the neck of a bottle. Without looking, he pulled it down knowing exactly what it was going to be; a mostly empty bottle of Ardbeg Uigeadail, a strong scotch he enjoyed quite a lot. He kept it up high so it stayed at room temperature, exactly how he liked to drink it. Next to it was a small glass, placed there as if the two were made for one another.

He poured himself a generous serving and went back to sit in the living room. Settled, he checked the time once more. 7.02am. Chase took a sip from his glass, the drink bubbling on his tongue then sliding down his throat wonderfully. Glancing out the window at the sunrise, he swirled the golden liquor up to the lip of the glass.

He ready to wait until it was time to begin his search for Carmen Sandiego.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading!
> 
> Chapter 2 is on its way.


	2. Hôtel de Ville

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to thank all those who gave me a positive response to my first chapter on here and on tumblr. Was extremely heart-warming. Without further ado, I give you chapter 2.

### Chapter 2 - Hôtel de Ville 

The city centre was roaring with life the moment it hit 9 am. It was as if every tourist in Poitiers had an alarm set for the same time in the morning so they could crowd every landmark by 8. Chase ended up leaving his apartment by 8.10 that morning. He restricted himself to 1 glass of scotch, which he shot back as if it was cheap a vodka. Agitated by having to wait with no distraction, he went down to the local grocer and bought a few packs of mints to soothe his cravings. By the time he rounded the corner, one pack had been devoured. There was no way he could stomach going back to his apartment, so he made his way down to Hôtel de Ville, by foot. He didn't fully understand the hype around the administration building. It wasn't as grand as the one in central Paris, half the size even. Despite this, the few years he had been in the area, it was a busy place for the budding tourism in the city.

Chase no longer had a vehicle. The one he did have was issued to him by the Poitiers Police Department. The same place that discarded him the second he 'left' for, Interpol, then ACME, loosing his free car privileges on the first step away from conventional law enforcement. It was gathered through word of mouth that he wasn't going to be welcomed back anytime soon. In fact, it seemed they were more than happy to cut ties. Which hurt more than he could have possibly imagined, knowing it should have been something he had to have expected. Good, moldable publicity was the most important aspect of higher management or those in visible roles within the police department and operations alike. The definition of such being essentially unattainable, unnaturally flexible. Unless you had limitless money to prune your reputation or a willing employer who doesn't throw you under the bus.

Chase refused to take public transport. The thought of having to spend a claustrophobic amount of time around snivelling strangers and overly delinquent children made his spine tingle. Chase would not risk sullying his new suit on a dirty train or bus seat. It was the nicest thing he'd ever had the pleasure to own. So he would walk, with his pride intact. Besides, he enjoyed exercise. It was an upstanding model for distraction that provided acute health benefits, a boost to his physical poise and psyche.

From his local grocer, it was a brisk 25-minute walk to the city centre area. When he arrived he was very early, so he sat and waited at one of the coffee shops just beginning to open its doors to meet the morning crowds.

Chase kept his eye on the white building dubbed the Hôtel de Ville or as he knew it, the outdated centre of administration. He scoured the area for anything ACME related, periodically glancing at his watch to keep track of the time.

It was 9.41 am.

He was on his second cup of black Turkish coffee, with a sprinkle of salt. The barista who served him was overly cheerful, so much so it made him terribly uncomfortable, especially when he came back a second time. It felt like everyone around him was oozing with youthful exuberance while he sat in the corner scorched and blistered from their sunlight.

Chase wasn't really that old, 35 to be exact. But his soul was. Early in his life, he was forced to grow up and grow up fast. He had to be firm and realistic. There was no time for standing about waiting for help when you have to be your own adult to take care of yourself.

Unfortunately over the last few years, Chase felt as if his interior old age was beginning to take over his younger exterior. He always had definitive lines under his eyes and a slightly gaunt face thanks to his sharp jaw and high cheekbones, it was how his face was. What ailed him most was that he had somehow lost muscle. His strength and never-ending endurance was what he relied on. It all dwindling away. The main culprit that he no longer desired to use a shared gym, his poor eating habits and his overall negligence to take care of himself in general. It was always an: 'I'll do it tomorrow' comment whenever his personal health and wellbeing were put into the limelight.

The shaded outside seating Chase waited at was now busier than he could handle. As it got closer to 10, more and more people started settling in adding to the constant mass of noise that hung over the area like a low fog

Twisting his wrist to see the time, he decided to move on. It was 9.49 and he was sick of staring at the time. With minimal consideration, he made an executive decision to wait closer to the building.

Keeping to the shaded outskirts of the plaza he tried to blend in. This proved hard with it being summer. Especially when one is dressed in a full suit and tie and everyone else draped in shorts and a shirt. Every second person he passed gave him a sideways glance of judgement for his clothing choice. It didn't help that it looked like he stepped right out of a Men in Black film especially with the eyewear.

Chase managed to slip his way to the side of the building near the entrance. He kept back, staying behind the pile of tourists all waiting for the tour of the inside to start like a hive mind. He glanced at his watch hoping it was for the last time.

It was 9.55.

Grumbling nervously he curled in his shoes as the tour guide yelled over the crowd a scripted introduction. On instinct, he shoved a hand into his inner coat pocket and pulled out the cylinder of strong mints. Peeling back the foil he pressed a few to the top, rolling them into his mouth. Just as she began her speech, a man, the same one who delivered his suit materialised within the group.

Chase felt his throat knot as he tried to swallow down a hit of the nerves, almost choking on a mint. This was the beginning of his second chance and he was too busy gasping on a mint. The fellow agent started to file into the hall with everyone else. He made brief eye contact with Chase, adjusting his eyewear as if to say: follow.

Taken aback his heart fluttered with excitement. He quickly shoved the mints into his pant pocket, attempting to ignore the little burn in his throat from breathing in a mint.

Trying to act normal he slotted himself into the crowd getting stuck at the back. Thanks to his height, Chase could see slightly atop the shuffle of people while they entered the foyer. As everyone started to space out slightly, the agent he tailed split from the group gliding down a nearby staircase chained with an 'employees only' sign in multiple languages. Chase followed suit and pushed through the crowd to follow, smiling as he did.

Stepping awkwardly over the off-limits chain he jumped down the corkscrew stairway. Once at the bottom the room opened up again, filled with chairs and tables, a crude storage area. At the end of the hall, the man stood ominously with his hands behind his back next to a door marked 'utilities' in English. An extremely unorthodox site for a predominantly French-speaking country.

Chase had to force himself from running over giddily, which would have been embarrassing for them both to witness. As he approached, the agent smoothly pressed his own card to the door, opening it ready so Chase could stride in undisturbed. He couldn't help but grin the entire time as he entered, the door shutting behind him, the man not following. Darkness filled the room as the sound of the handle latching closed echoed off the walls.

Chase sort of just stood in the darkness for a moment, unsure if this was correct. He teetered in his spot wondering if walking straight into a dark closet without thinking was the best idea.

A soft blue light suddenly spilled out from underneath his suit. The glow throbbed as a small familiar beep sounded off. Opening his jacket, his communicator pen flashed brightly in his breast pocket. He clicked the button down, letting it drop and taking a step back. It fell perfectly on its tip, wobbling before a stream of blue light exploded out. Chief's hologram fazed into reality, her presence lighting up the room slightly.

"Good morning, Agent Devineaux."

Chase went to greet her back but was quickly cut off.

"I never took you for someone who valued punctuality, yet here you are, early. By a single minute even"

Chief coyly looked down at her own watch, keeping her expression plain, but judging. He had a hunch at exactly what she was referring to. His own hysterical rant about being 1 minute late to the man outside earlier that morning.

Chase blew it off tugging on his jacket straighten himself up as a deflection, clearing his throat hoping it was his turn to speak. Chief seemed uninterested at his gesture for his own turn to converse and instead looked up at the ceiling and around.

"Were you.."

Chief frowned moving her eyes back to him questioningly.

"Waiting in the dark before I called Devineaux?"

Chase's eyes widened as he thought of an answer that might save him from mockery later down the line.

"I, uh-".

Chief rolled her eyes and sighed, cutting him off.

"There is a switch at the door Agent. I suggest you turn it on."

Chase nodded awkwardly looking behind to the door, searching for the switch. He flicked it on. The fluorescent bulbs flashed once before renaming on.

The 'utility closet' was a lot larger than most, it clearly just a sign to deter wandering civilians. The only other things inside the room were a basic desk and chair, surmounting to an ACME office.

"I would like to make it formally clear right now that any reckless endangerment inflicted upon any ACME equipment, vehicles or buildings will result in you personally footing the bill entirely."

Chief held her head high as she asserted dominance.

"Do I make myself perfectly candid, Agent Devineaux?"

Chief almost smiled while she emphasised the Agent in that Agent Devineaux, as if knowing how exactly much that Agent meant to him.

Chase felt all the confidence he had built over the last few hours vanish when he answered.

"Yes, Chief."

Chase defeatedly slid his hands around to his back so he could hold his thumb, twisting the glove around it in comfort.

Not even 5 minutes in and he had completely forgotten how breathtaking terrifying Chief was, and how much he wanted to utterly impress her.

"I'm sure you know that Miss Carmen Sandiego still eludes us."

Chase tensed his grip on his own hand.

"She not only decided to continue keeping herself in the shadows but she issued a cyber attack upon ACME days ago."

Her tone hardened.

"She stole copies of 65% of all data pertaining to our active and cold cases, collected Intel and personal details on current and dismissed ACME staff before we were able to shut the system down."

Chief stepped closer.

"She has officially made herself a direct enemy of ACME and I'm ensuring that word of her betrayal will be distributed throughout the United Nations to ensure no one else places their trust wrongfully in her hands.

Her gaze was laced with seething anger, her manner matching. Chase was taken slightly aback as she continued, closing her eyes and pressing her fingers to the lids trying to calm herself.

"Every cloud has a silver lining as they say, and this silver lining was will hopefully give us the opportunity to catch Carmen Sandiego. That's where your reactivation comes into play Devineaux."

"A particularly large file that Carmen Sandiego stole comprised of all of our Intel on the areas and locations throughout the world where VILE has been seen, suspected or known to be operating or associated from and with."

Chase swallowed sharply, trying to take in all of the new information he was being forced fed trying to remain face.

"These leads were not on any public records and we can assume, or at least hope, she will use them to her advantage. We know that Carmen works quick. Some locations on the roster were marked as recently active, those are the ones you'll be sent to monitor first."

Chase tilted his head up at this information.

"Monitor?"

He questioned. Monitor wasn't the word he thought he was going to hear associated with his name. Monitor was just the step above paperwork in his mind.

"Monitor and survey the areas most recently recorded to be have been a hotspot of VILE activity."

She answered back lightly infuriated by his injected question while he shook his head as if confused, his voice stuttering.

"I-I thought you called me back to catch Carmen Sandiego, not VILE?"

Devineaux felt her glare pierce through his ego, deflating it back down to size she could hold in her hand. She waited a moment in silence making sure he was aware that his question was futile. It didn't take long for him to get the memo, squirming in his suit which he felt himself shrink into. But he remained eye contact nonetheless.

"Carmen now knows what we know. Her Intel is our Intel and she is after VILE just as we are. It is almost certain that she will use this information and investigate each herself. Hench why you are here."

Chief stood tall, her hologram body flickering with the distorted internet frequency of a bellow ground level closet. 

"Due to your previous experience tailing Miss Sandiego and your unnatural gravitational pull that seems to lure her out, you will one apart of a split team to attend each high priority site and maintain surveillance. A stint at each location will be limited to a week maximum to minimise notoriety. At the end of each allotted time, a fellow agent will take over duty for you to move on and do the same for another. You begin immediately."

It was all moving extremely fast, something that before didn't bother him that did strangely now. He pressed his held hands into his back to maintain his composure.

"Alone?"

Chase questioned. Normally ACME agents worked in pairs for safety. Him standing alone in this room facing Chief felt, different.

"Need a babysitter Devineaux?"

Chief raised a brow at him jeeringly, crossing her arms satisfied with her little prod. He opened his mouth slightly ajar, utterly vexed with bewilderment at her comment. Holding himself back from commenting something rather nasty he swallowed his pride and mumbled out a begrudged, politer response. He was on thin ice as it was, speaking up for himself would be fruitless.

"No."

Chief smiled.

"Good."

Chief turned her head to the side, gesturing to someone out of his view. Chase took this time to force himself to not implode, taking a deep shaken breath to help relieve the urge.

"Your first assignment will be in Nicaragua in the city of Granada. There is a warehouse on the outskirts of the main central district that has been rife with criminal activity pertaining to VILE. Your commercial flight and accommodation have been arranged. You will board your flight in 6 hours."

Chief gestured her hand in an upwards motion, the door behind him opening, letting in a waft of fresh air. The agent who waited outside entered closing the door joining them.

"You will be issued with the correct equipment and corresponding informational package for your assignment. All shall be waiting for you at your lodgings."

Chief moved her eyes to behind Chase nodded at the agent behind. A gloved hand suddenly appeared next to him holding a beige file for him to take. Chase grabbed it opening it up to see a plane ticket, multiple hard copies of his birth certificate, license other documents detailing his existence each in multiple languages.

"Due to recent events, you will keep physical copies of your personal information in case of another breach. You are also entering a third world county so, please do not lose this file unless you want to end up decapitated in a muddy ditch."

Chase softly flapped it closed a little dishevelled at her comment of his gruesome death.

"Oh and, do hold onto your receipts Agent. But do be aware that there is a universal 50USD food and living expense Per Diem. And we do not refund anything outside the ACME work refund guide. Newly implemented."

Another hand appeared beside him, this time holding a brochure and waver. The pamphlet conspicuously titled: 'Your ACME Discount & You' in French, the paper a long detailed list clearly showing everything ACME won't refund. Silently grumbling, just wanting all of this to be over, he took them too.

"Good luck Agent, do not disappoint."

With that, she faded away into nothing, the pen falling over rolling to his feet. Chase swallowed, gripping the multiple papers in his hands tightly. His brain reeled, unsure on what detail he should be focusing on.

He looked down at the papers in his hand, releasing his grip. Without noticing, he had crumpled each of their sides slightly.

The agent behind him impatiently cleared his throat for attention. Chase whipped his head around, seeing him standing to the side of the door waiting for him to move. Frazzled, Chase messily stuffed the papers together and into his coat going for the exit quickly.

Chase nearly smacked his face right into the door. He assumed that the agent would open it for him but he didn't. Forcing his eyes shut in annoyance, he turned ready to let out his exasperation at the whole situation upon him. But he was cut off.

"Your pen, Agent."

The man stated plainly. Chase frowned, patting his breast pocket. It was still on the floor.

"Uh, yes. I was just getting to that."

He declared as if it was his plan to leave his new pen on the floor all along. Feeling as if he could punch a hole through a concrete wall, Chase twisted smoothly on the spot. His shoes squeaked as he did so.

Scooping it up, he returned and strode to the door, this time it opening magically for him.

Chase found himself once again back in the real world. The door was slammed behind him causing him to stop. He turned around to the sound, the agent gone. Astonished, Chase looked about the room a little, surprised at how fast the man managed to disappear. He put his hands in his pockets ready to leave himself when he heard a papery crunch.

Wincing, Chase shoved a hand into his jacket pulling out the crumpled mess of important documents handed to him a moment before. Sighing, he tried to straighten them out when the pamphlet 'Your ACME Discount & You' caught his eye. Moving it atop the pile he peeled open a rippled page, intrigued.

It in French meant that the first few hundred pages were all companies and business within France. He somewhat appreciated the effort, finding it condescendingly tailored to him. Sticking to the index, he focused on the 'recreation and leisure' subheading. Flicking to the relating page he traced his finger down until a smile settled nicely onto his face. He tapped the page, pleased with the result.

Folding it back up he finished smoothing the papers back out and slid them safely into his coat. He pulled out his phone and started walking for the stairs leading to the main foyer above. Holding his thumb to the home button, Google assist popped onto the screen. Chase moved the phone to his lips hurriedly galloping up the stairs.

"How much alcohol can you take on a commercial flight to Nicaragua?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Chapter 3 will arrive shortly ;)


	3. Budget Cuts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to first off thank you all for the support. It's awesome.
> 
> Secondly, I hope this chapter isn't too boring. But don't worry, things are about to pick up very soon.

### Budget Cuts

For a multi-million dollar organisation that communicates via hologram, ACME sure did like to penny-pinch.

ACME's great fortune couldn't seem to at least get him an aisle seat, not even a window seat, but saddled him with the middle seat.

When Chase boarded his last plane to Nicaragua that afternoon from his connecting flight in Texas, he found himself squashed between his worst nightmare: Two strangers who had no idea about personal space or boundaries. After a 12 hour layover waiting for his plane after missing the one he was supposed to catch, he was not in the best of moods. Not that he ever really was. Especially since he had to wait at the airport.

He was on the last hour of his 38 hour-long trip. And he was one second away from kicking out the window and jumping into the infinite sky to meet his doom, taking everyone down with him.

Chase didn't understand it. He couldn't comprehend it. He completely expected to be flying in comfort inside his own private jet, as he had done briefly before. Except that luxury was in the company of Julia, the prodigy.

Chase felt the man to his right-leaning over onto his side, trying to grab something from the floor. His head was basically in his lap, causing Chase to almost rip his designated armrest out from its holding, nails nearly piercing through the fake leather.

This was hell. He was sitting in it, row G seat 27. This was his punishment for simply daring to exist as himself. And in this hell, Chief was the devil. Chase knew this was her way of telling him that she is in command of his happiness, his life was hers. All his previous mistakes were finally receiving their punishment.

But what he just said couldn't figure out was:

_How did she know that I absolutely detest the general public?_

The passenger's head finally lifted from his leg. He turned to Chase with a smile, flashing up a small pack of peanuts as if he was supposed to give a shit.

Chase jutted his jaw to the side, gritting his teeth together. The man seemed unfazed and started fiddling with the wrapping to his dismay.

The sound of thin plastic crinkling caused every fine hair on his body to stand, his will to live shrinking with every crumple. Fluttering his eyes with crippling anger, the man's struggle next to him was over, ripping it open to munch loudly on the prize inside.

Chase himself had eaten nothing since he was in Toronto, waiting for his flight to Texas. That was 19 hours ago now. He refused to eat plane food. Based purely upon the fact that he couldn't possibly eat with someone sitting in his lap 24/7. That, and plane food made him ill.

He sighed uncomfortably, pushing his shoes against the floor trying to straighten his back. For a 5"11, practically 6 ft man with long arms and legs plus broad shoulders, the minimal room in any economy flight was painful. This is why he never went anywhere that required a plane flight on his own volition.

A small crack popped from his spine causing him to wince. He would have more room if the man to his left had the common decency to keep their legs to himself instead of spreading out across the globe. 'Manspreading' as he knew it to be called. Chase browsed Twitter now and again so he knew exactly what the dope was doing. The gall

Sadly, Chase was too wearied to make a loud fuss, which he wanted to do very much. He just prayed to leave the plane and make it to his accommodation without mauling someone.

Just as he began to contemplate the repercussions of in the air manslaughter, an automated voice spoke out across the plane in multiple languages, indication that the plane was beginning its descent into Managua, the capital city of Nicaragua.

Chase expelled a shaken sigh of relief as those around him started buckling their seat belts, muttering to himself.

"Dieu merci."

The taxi hummed it's way along the street as it neared its destination. The car was strangely warm and comfortable in compassion to the icy window Chase rested his head against. He could feel his eyes burn every time they passed a burst of light, squinting heedlessly, too lazy to move his head from the glass.

The duffel bag he used as a suitcase sat nestled on his lap, nursing it as one did a small child. He managed to take all his belongings, his entire life with him inside this large gym bag. Most of that being the new addition of his ACME suit and 5 litres worth of scotch, at least there were 5 litres at first.

Through a bit of research, he found out that most countries accepted 5 litres maximum of alcohol through its borders. So he figured he'd take a good supply with him which would extend throughout other trips. It wasn't like he'd be driving anytime soon if Chief had any say about it. So with that, he assumed he was good to go, at least that's what he thought

With every security clearance he dredged through at each airport, a bottle was confiscated. The first before he even left France. The next in Canada, Texas and finally the moment he stepped foot in Nicaragua. Flashing his ACME card didn't even help. He was down to one sad little bottle of scotch. The thing he loved most about them was how full they made his bag. It made him feel better about the fact that he was able to fit all the things he cared about in it.

As if to cope with the loss, he concluded that it most likely made him look a little bit dodgy with most of his luggage being alcohol. Hench the hasty removal. He just wished they took it all at once and not piece by piece, wasting his time mostly with false hopes.

Chase tightened his arms around the bag, pressing it closer to his chest causing it to compress. Air escaped out the porous fabric halving its size, looking shrivelled. Worst of all, now it just felt so, empty.

The car slowed to a stop, Chase's body dropping forward when the driver pulled the handbrake. Bouncing in his seat the taxi driver twisted around.

"Here Sir. Card or Cash?"

Chase looked out the window at the plain building across the street. Two hazy lights hung from the wall surrounding the door to his lodgings, coating the area in a white soft glow. The street around was worn, the stairs to the door were chipping, the area appearing uninhabited. It's only redeeming quality being the sunset in the background that illuminated behind the building, wrapping it in a black silhouette.

"... I accept all major cards and currencies."

On the last quarter-hour of the trip here from Managua, they went right through the heart of the city. They passed countless upscale hotels each with grand entrances welcoming all. But this. Well. At least he could say it matched exactly how the last 40 hours went down.

"Sir?"

The driver spoke louder, tilting his head to the side to get Chase's attention which proved successful.

Chase blinked quickly back into reality, wriggling around trying to yank his wallet from his pocket.

"VISA? Yes?"

Chase fumbled trying to pull the right card out to pay. His fingers and nose were numb from the cold despite the car feeling warm.

The driver moved back reaching over to the seat beside him, pulling out a handheld eftpos machine. He pressed a few buttons and it lit up ready, passing it to Chase to pay.

"Thank you Sir."

He passed back the machine and was given a tiny receipt in return.

Chase opened the door and was met with a still chill that pierced through his thin grey long sleeve shirt. He had spent the last day and a half hot and sweaty surrounded by scores of people. This was the first time his body had been cold for a while. It felt nice.

He tried to step out of the vehicle but was thrust back into his seat by an unholy force. He forgot to unbuckle his seatbelt. Swearing in French, the driver offered some prompt advice on the matter while Chase pulled the belt off from around his neck.

"Your seatbelt sir."

Chase finally clicked it off snapping back at the driver, deflecting his anger at his own stupidity away from himself.

"Oh really? A seatbelt? In a car? HA! _How original!_ "

Chase's French accent soaked through every word making his outburst nearly illegible. He got out, slamming the door dramatically for good measure positivity fuming. He'd had enough of people for the rest of his life.

Judging by how the car sped off, Chase was lucky the driver didn't back up and over him in response. Taking a breath he tightened his grip on his bag and walked across the road to his hotel.

The inside was plain and musky, the cold night air unable to fight the warmth trapped inside. The room was poorly lit, apart from the cluster of light at the desk situated right before a set of stairs. At the check-in desk was a woman sitting in front of an old-style dialup computer, reading a book appearing less than pleased.

As he went to check in a man suddenly brushed past him, them knocking shoulders lightly. Chase whipped back ready to confront whoever it was that dared challenge him. But he paused, instead, inspecting the man's back as he made his way out the door. He wore a familiar dark navy suit and gloves that shone in the street lights. It was an ACME agent.

Chase blinked trying to confirm what he saw, by then he was already gone.

"Checking in?"

A female voice with a strangely ambiguous accent caught his attention. Chase forced himself back from fantasy, arriving at the desk.

"Yes. Chase Devineaux."

The woman eyed him as he tiredly ran his fingers through his far from clean hair. She tapped lightly on the keyboard as he looked back out through the glass door distracted. The operative he saw must have been here for him. He vaguely remembered Chief telling him further resources would be waiting for him at his accommodation. But that was so long ago now. His brain had been completely used up trying to navigate around social situations he was forced into for nearly 2 days straight. It didn't make sense why Chief had him waste so much time in transport.

"Confirmation receipt."

She snapped back, instantly floundering through his bag for the file which had his booking receipt inside. It was crumpled, even more so from living in his bag for a while. He awkwardly tried to flatten it out on the lip of the desk before handing it over. She glanced over it, tapping a few more times on the keyboard.

"Identification."

She stated, not asking but telling. He patted his back pocket, locating his wallet and flashed his French driver's license. She sat up raising a brow, looked him up and down as if disappointed at what she saw then half disappearing under the desk. She came back with a key attached to a large red tag, slapping it onto the desk. She smacked her lips, pointing up to the stairwell next to them as if already fed up with his presence.

"Up the stairs, door marked with a 2."

Chase swiped the key off the desk, painfully forcing himself to give a tiny smile as a half-assed thank you. She didn't seem to care otherwise.

He dragged himself up the stairs, the tip of his shoes catching every step and made it to room 2. The door opened with a sad squeak, revealing an abysmally small room, baked in street light from the one window in the whole place.

The single bed was shoved up against the wall, a lamp sitting on the floor next to it. Everything was squashed to the sides to make room for a chair and table that separated the sleeping area from a small kitchenette. At the end of the kitchen was a doorway, suspiciously missing a door, that led to the bathroom.

He stepped inside locking the door behind him tucking the key into his pocket, flicking the light switch near it. Nothing happened. Confused, he flicked it off then back on again. Still nothing. As if frenzied, he grabbed the tiny switch and frantically turned it on and off as if that would help the situation. Seconds away from shoving the whole switch into another dimension with his physical strength alone, he stopped.

Chase pressed a thumb to his forehead and for a small moment, he allowed a tiny sliver of his sanity to break away and fall into the void that was his puddle of a mind, forever lost.

All he could do was meander over to the bed in the dark, sitting down onto the crunchy polyester cover, placing his bag to his side. That's when he noticed the briefcase sitting silently near the pillow, awaiting his notice.

As if a spark burst into flame within him, he felt his heart flutter, enthralled as if forgetting he was on a top-secret agent mission to catch evil.

This must have been why I saw that agent leaving the building. He speculated.

Chase flipped it onto his lap appreciating the smooth black lid of the case with anticipation. He looked down to the floor for the button to the lamp so he could hopefully see what he was doing. To his luck, it clicked on, shooting its beam right up to the ceiling. Shaking from pure excitement to be finally getting started on the mission, he popped the case open.

Encapsulated within was a medium-thicknesses file atop a matte black chrome laptop, sporting a shiny metal ACME plaque. Underneath were two small cases, one slightly larger than the other. Hoping it was another gadget he could toy with he immediately cracked one open.

In the larger one was a typical touch screen phone, pretty much identical to the one he had now. The second it touched his skin the screen went dark blue, a white message appearing;

**Hello, Agent Devineaux.**

Weezing with excitement, Chase shook the screen with glee. This would never get old. The fact that it knew his name without him lifting a finger was enough to impress him.

He grabbed his phone from his pocket to compare the two when he saw the time. His phone was still set to Poitiers. It was currently 1.27 am, or according to his ACME gadget which was automatically set, 6.27 pm in Granada. This revelation put a slight dampener on the mood, but he shook it off ready to open his next present.

The tiny case was sadly less exciting. Inside it was a small USB which he assumed contained some kind of information about the case. Huffing with disappointment, he looked back at the phone turning it over and around. It had no ports whatsoever. Strange inspecting the back further, he noticed it had a thin layer of removable plastic lining the underside. It had faint writing inscribed on it in white:

**Place this side up in sunlight to charge.**

Chase scoffed, impressed once again. A solar charging phone. He peeled the safety plastic away, it sticking to his leg despite trying to shake it off.

He flipped it back to the more exciting side and started swiping through the phone. The more he browsed the more apparent it became that this was more of a portable information system than a phone. The only 'phone' type aspect was a camera, email style messaging system and one-way call capability. Nonetheless, it was still compelling enough to captivate him until his better judgement took over.

Deep down he knew he should be reading up on the case rather than playing on his devices. As if just telling himself off for trying to enjoy the moment, he put down the phone and picked up the file.

Despite it being a thick file, the contents were quite, underwhelming, his hefty weight was all safety padding. there were a few images of a building, a few old warrants and a list of names and businesses seen frequent to the area in question. About to give up on the hard copy details, one of the photos caught his eye.

There was a small, strange blur of colour disappearing into the walls of the building. The image was dark, taken obviously at night meaning this greenish pink mark was even more prominent.

It was circled in black texter with a note stuck near it containing what seemed to be a file name, timestamp and date it was taken, being just 4 days ago. The fact that it had been written on, in person, was interesting considering he was the first agent to man the site since its initial registration into ACME'S files. He had to assume it was done by the man who left all this for him.

Chase didn't ponder over the suspicion surrounding it any further and slipped the papers away, turning his curiosity to the laptop, hoping it would give him more to work with.

Chase had some experience with an ACME laptop. Not much, but some. He knew how to work a laptop in general but he wasn't as tech-savvy like his old partner. He never had such things growing up, not even a radio. To this day he couldn't justify owning such a luxury when he had no real use for it.

Starting at nothing and then trying to live on the small payout after joining the military at 18, then leaving some years later provided moe difficult than expected without support. Disposable income either didn't exist or was reserved for alcohol, cheese and quality branded underwear in Chase's eyes. The man had to grind for his Calvin Klein briefs, scotch and brie.

He lifted the screen revealing a tiny card placed on the keyboard as it automatically booted up. It had his login details to the ACME database printed on it. Chase had only used it a few times, or he would use Julia's ACME account as his password always seemed to decide to be not what he remembered. Julia usually preferred to do the reporting herself, she would often insist incessantly on it from over his shoulder as he did it.

The bright login screen flashed up, two little white lines swimming in the ACME blue background. Referencing his card, he logged in, hitting the enter key with a little extra gusto.

It had been a long while since he felt so eager to dive into some real detective work. During his employment with Interpol for the Poitiers Police Department, he was mainly a liaison. Most of what he did day-to-day was to investigate or oversee a few minor international cases that popped up within his jurisdiction. Even then, it was just him handing out warrants, approving evidence and being the guy you call when someone has a hunch that some random B & E was an international Mafia hit. Interpol was just an information-sharing hub. He and a few others were just the liaison between the two, who they sometimes stuck an intern too. Until Julia turned up.

She was not an intern like the rest, as she wasn't an intern at all. Julia was considerably older than the typical intern, fully educated with multiple degrees and just passing through to beef up her résumé. She was newly hired and a paid employee at Interpol who had the right idea to acquire her seconded official rank through the Poitiers Police Department. Julia merely had to stand around the police-badge-wearing Chase for a few months, get a good recommendation from him then she could shoot to the top. All she was missing was tactical police and detective experience. As if she was really going to get that from him.

Chase had lost his ability to fully enter that realm of existence since he was hoisted off to Poitiers for his 'not particularly media-friendly actions'. It only mattered how you reflected on paper, how well deposed you were to the public, and Julia looked spectacular. That fact still grilling him to this day. He hated being a push around, a stamp on a useless bit of paper, consistently unrecognised for how much he'd sacrificed. Police work started as a basic job to pay his way to better things, leading to the magnum opus of his detective career; A well-respected Sargent, a detective who guided others with poise. The ACME badge was nothing in comparison to the esteem of his previous employment.

Chase was going to do this right. By the book, exactly how Chief wanted. He would not let his inhibitions about his old mistakes dictate the outcome of his second chance. His temper would not control his restraint and a line was set in the sand that he would not cross. And by God, he was going to no longer have his name be a joke in the industry because he allowed himself to be dragged into the dirt. He was going to be the one to catch Carmen Sandiego.

Chase had nothing else left to lose apart from his life.

It finished loading up the ACME database and reporting utilities. He frowned instantly. The desktop was extremely, empty and utterly different from previous trips into the information pool. There was only the application 'Reporting' placed directly in the middle of the screen. Chase scoffed. He knew for a fact that this wasn't it. He'd been on the ACME database before and was aware he should be able to access the entirety of it. Clicking around he tried to find something else to activate the normal version. But nothing. He continued clicking like a mad man and began shaking the screen in confusion.

"No no no no.. Vous vous foutez de moi?"

Chase mumbled with disdain, locking his jaw down tight almost biting his tongue off in the process. He felt his cheeks blush as his tempter fizzled through his body. He clasped the sides of the laptop, pressing his thumbs into the screen causing the colour to warp black around them, seconds away from snapping it in half.

"What kind of bullshit is this?!"

Chase screamed at the laptop frantically trying to grasp why he has this rinky drink iteration that felt as if it was made for his torment.

They had given him a child locked, or 'Chase locked' version of the database.

He huffed, bending the screen back sharply and in at the sides, causing it to blink off with a blood-curdling crack. It was now black, holding only the reflection of his grimacing face glaring back at him.

Chase stopped hearing his blood thump through his ears. He hunched his back in disbelief softening his face to resemble a horrified frown. He just broke it, 5 minutes after obtaining it.

His heart shrivelled deeper into the cavity that held it, a flush of maddening embarrassment washing over him. He stared at his solemn reflection, fixating on the realisation that he was but a futile and untrustworthy liability in the eyes of ACME, Chief.

Chase shut the laptop not wanting to look at himself any longer, feeling a thin crevice on back. There was a split in the metal case that held the screen, now curved unnaturally in the middle. The break stopped right before the ACME plaque as if ACME itself was the only thing keeping it from breaking. He ran a finger over the clean split, his skin pinching as he did so.

The lone lamp that sat sadly on the floor occasionally flickering, as if awkwardly trying to remove itself from existence after Chase's outburst.

It was clear that he was already off to a less than ideal start.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for readingggggg :)


	4. Delusions of Grandeur

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 4 is a little bit longer than I thought it would be. I could have made it even longer but I had to stop myself. Hopefully, I edited this better than the last few chapters. I'm terrible at editing my own work, I'm way better at editing others. Ain't that just the way? Anyway, here we go!
> 
> (do note that I have added a pairing to the tags as why should I kid myself, we all know where this is heading. But don't worry, it's not for a long while my dudes and is VERY far from the main focus of this story)

### Chapter 4 - Delusion of Grandeur

2 months later.

A soft drizzle of rain swept along with the wind, blowing the occasional speck of water in through the open window of his rental car. He untucked an arm that was wrapped around his stomach for warmth to itch his growing beard. Chase had his back mostly resting on the car door, a leg bent over the shared armrest console near the gearshift.

Using his newly freed hand, he dug into a red Doritos bag sharing his seat grabbing out a handful of corn chips. He kept his eye on the corner grocery store across the street he was tasked to observe, forcing all the chips messily into his mouth. Here, people drove on the left side of the road meant he had sat awkwardly in his car to look out his passenger window to the building across the street. Like some kind of unruly street youth.

The last few months had been soul-crushingly uneventful. His stint in Nicaragua was painfully boring, followed by another in Portugal then Morocco, Quebec, Poland, Latvia, Seoul, Borneo, Greece and now England, Bristol.

His journey took him dotting across the globe to remarkable places, but he saw none of it. For he did always long to travel freely, properly. It was one of his underlying desires to never be pinned down to a conventional state of living. To abstain from a methodical routine. All the places he drifted through were told to be suspicious hotspots of VILE activity were all the same. Warehouses, abandoned buildings and the odd store or too. Every single one he was made to sit and watch from a distance. It was made crystal clear he was not allowed to engage the sites in question.

A vehicle rumbled passed, wobbling the car, causing one of the multiple parking violations to flip into the air and away. The police here didn't seem to care that he was sitting in the car when they stuck them to his windshield. Once he tried flashing his ACME card to see if they'd stop giving him fines he didn't intend on paying. All it did was give them the pettiness to write it up slowly while maintaining brutally direct eye contact.

Chase watched as a young man dressed in a green school uniform left the convenience store, holding a small box of cigarettes. He walked away from the entrance to the alley right beside, slapping the box into his palm a few times. That was to 'active' the tobacco, as it were. He then took one out, lit it up and took a few long draws, before throwing the smouldering butt into the alley and moving on.

A tart smoky taste tingled across his tongue while his mouth watered, forcing him to swallow. He tightened his clutch around his stomach, looking to the dash where a group of empty mint packets lay discarded.

He never really 'quit' per se, instead found an easier outlet, mints. Chase never had to worry about people doing the 'guilt cough' whenever he even as much as held a packet of cigarettes in public. Mints were also allowed pretty much anywhere. They also smelt nicer. They were a fix for sure but unfortunately, nothing could beat the crave quelling and mind soothing burn like a cigarette.

Chase sighed, looking at the notebook near his chips. His 'reports' on each location mainly consisted of a plain regurgitation on what was already known and the security camera recordings for the week. He picked it up and flipped it open pulling out his ACME pen. At least this time he'd have something of his own to add, scribbling down onto the paper.

_* Allows underage children to purchase tobacco products on-premises_

A loud tap rapped from the window behind his head causing him to draw a deep line across his writing in surprise. He shoved the tip deeper into the page shooting his a glare over his shoulder. Chase knew exactly who it was who disturbed him, someone he'd dealt with before. This time his patience, tolerance and cravings had worn beyond tin.

"I need you to step out of the vehicle Sir."

The particular English accent was owned by a police officer who for the past 3 days had harassed him consistently.

He knocked again, this time louder.

"Sir, we go through this every day. Step. Out. Of. The. Vehicle."

Chase grumbled refusing to dignify the man with a response. He waited for him to bark again, instead of hearing an odd clicking noise, that of a lock being tampered with. Perplexed, he twisted himself around when the door he leaned on was suddenly opened. Chase fell backwards out onto the wet pavement, his chips scattering all over him and the pavement, swearing in shock.

"You have 8 unpaid parking violations and due to you continually ignoring our requests to move your vehicle, I am forced to take you in."

Chase winced, feeling his spine and neck ache from hitting the concrete so hard, rolling to his side placing a hand to the soaked ground. He looked up at the fluro wearing 'ticketmaster' looming over him holding a slim jim, screwing up his mouth. He curled his fingers into a fist slamming it down, specks of water splashing up from the force.

He jumped up fuming with pure embarrassment, ditching the pad of paper he still somehow had in his hand violently back into the car.

Chase could feel the sticky wetness that clung to his entire back and sides as if glued to his skin. He didn't even want to think about how it could have ruined his precious suit jacket and pants. He shot a look back at the car to see a huge rip in the side of the door where the office used his device to forcibly unlock the door. Chase felt an internal scream shudder throughout his body as his emotions flipped between utter horror and seething anger.

I'm not getting that security deposit back.

"THAT".

Chase pointed a finger at his mutilated side door, feeling no fear at the fact he was yelling at a police officer.

"Is a **rental** car, you putain d'idiot!".

The officer put a hand on his shoulder, mumbling into the radio.

"Oh Ho Ho! SURE! Call for backup, 'beat cop'. Why don't you just give me another meaningless ticket that I will NOT pay, and be on your way".

Chase mocked the man as the officer put a hand to his utility belt pulling off a set of metal handcuffs, adjusting them slightly.

"Sir, I'm ordering you to calm down immediately or I will be forced to restrain you for disorderly conduct."

Chase scoffed stepping closer throwing his hands in the air.

"HA! What are you going to do huh? ARREST me for parking? Mon Dieu!"

The officer pointed behind him.

"Sir, you've been parked in a bus drop off bay for 3 days straight, which is illegal."

Chase turned around to where the man was pointing, revealing a clear sign in front of his car that read; 'bus stop, do not park', followed by a fine infringement warning below.

Way past the point of no return, Chase continued to defend himself confidently as his grave was already dug.

"This is ridiculous, that sign was not there when I parked here this morning. Why don't you go out and do your real job, instead of this, nitpicking!"

He tried to blatantly lie about his situation standing his ground, watching as the officer walked forward into his space grabbing his wrist.

"You are under arrest for parking in a no-parking zone, public nuisance and disorderly conduct."

He twisted him around slightly slapping a cuff down securely around one wrist as Chase fought back slightly. A sharp strike of realisation and fear pierced the outer layer of his heart. His breath caught, understanding far too late that he royally screwed himself over. Chase couldn't let himself get arrested, he was supposed to be keeping his notoriety at a minimum. Getting thrown into custody was the furthest thing from what he was supposed to be doing as an ACME agent. He knew the system, those who insulted cops tend to stew the longest in those holding cells.

Chase felt the cool metal of the other cuff brush his skin, knowing exactly what had to be done. He had no choice but to evade capture at a cost.

Forcing his free arm back into his control, hearing the clasp latch without his wrist inside. Chase used his weight to ensure the officer couldn't hold him down as he lurched forward out of the laws grasp.

Quickly, he used all his stamina to sprint down the sidewalk to the end of the block, faint yells roaring behind him. He was a strong, fast runner when he needed to be.

Chase kept up his speed darting down a side alley to keep out of view, appearing back out onto a tight residential street. He couldn't hear anyone chasing him but it was best not to chance it.

Glancing down at the weight around his wrist he sighed taking a small moment. He attempted to pull it off as if he didn't rightly know that you can't without dislocating your thumb. A sudden burst of chatter behind him scared him back into his run.

Chase kept running for a considerably long time, jumping down alleys every so often to make sure he kept unnoticed. By now he just walked at a steady pace, his hands in his pockets trying to hide the incriminating cuffs, keeping an eye around him. He had ended up at a type of touristy market that sold more random junk than fruit and vegetables. There were plenty of people around for him to blend in with.

_You absolute idiot. You absolute fucking idiot._

He berated himself, rightly so.

Chase tried to think about what he could have possibly left in that money pit of a rental car. He was afraid that he could have left something inside that could out ACME or him being apart of it. Thankfully, he could feel his wallet, ACME card and phone all in his pockets. He then had a thought and stopped walking wincing up at the clouded sky, cursing under his breath.

His ACME pen. He had dropped it somewhere at the scene, most likely sitting on the pavement where he fell, along with his chips.

Chase felt his soul evaporate into a looming cloud of self-disappointment that started raining down upon his sad little derelict parade called his life.

Chief was going to hang him by his tie once she learned that he lost his communicator. At least he still has his key card this time around.

He trudged grumpily through the street market until he began to reach the strip's end. Here was where most of the tourist trap vendors operated, containing a lot of questionable items. The crowd thinned the closer he got to the exit, the road becoming visible.

To his immediate terror, a police vehicle sat just outside, pulled up onto the curb, an officer leaning against the bonnet speaking into his radio. He couldn't tell if it was the same one that attempted to apprehend him, they all looked the same from a distance in their uniform.

Chase widened his eyes, backing away and ducking into the crowd. He couldn't believe he was glad to be around so many people.

He wasn't sure if they were here for him but he couldn't afford to take any chances. Trying to go the opposite way he kept an eye on the officer who started walking into the market himself. Slight panic ensued as Chase tried his best to keep his composure, picking up his pace sticking to the sides.

The way this street market worked was that one side was for designated for walking up and the other down, acting as a loop. Currently, he was disobeying this unspoken rule, unable to progress back the way he came at a good speed without pissing a lot of people off.

Chase looked back, the officer now too close for comfort parallel to him in the other walking lane. His stomach flipped, diving quickly into one of the stores decorated heavily with various types of merchandise.

The chatter from the general public slowly faded away the deeper he ventured inside the pop-up shop. A thick warmth and low yellow glow cocooned the compacted space the closer he got the back.

Chase couldn't help but survey around him, noticing the items turn from generic crap, to some familiar designer names.

Gucci, Channel, Calvin Klein, Prada, Fendi, Hermes, Louis Vuitton and scores of other luxury brand names littered the area.

Chase stopped at the back, looking down at a shiny green 'leather' bag sitting on display with countless others in various colours. He picked it up at the familiar centred handle and looked at the tiny gold writing between the straps.

Hermes, Paris, Made in France.

Chase scoffed, It was a fake Hermes Birkin bag. He'd come across thousands of the things when he was working in the Fraud & Counterfeit department back in Paris when he first moved up from beat cop to detective.

From there he wound up at Child Crimes, then lastly at Major Organised Crime Syndicates & Narcotics. All as a detective, even a Sargent towards the end of the promising stint. It was a thrilling but difficult experience, to say the least.

Chase pressed in on the bag’s skin swiping down, some of the green colour smudging off the fake crocodile pelt with his thumb. Part of him wished he could have just stayed dealing with fake handbags forever, instead of seeking bigger things and greater enemies. Having to endure the harsh reality that was societies dirty underbelly left his stomach to always churn at the thought. Especially his assignment within Child Crimes. It left him an everlasting uneasiness towards the general public and children.

He put it down as two tourists appeared to browse the wears to his side. Chase felt them eye him unfairly harsh until he noticed that his cuffed hand was out, dangling around.

He shuffled away to where clothes hung down from the ceiling like vines in a humid tropical jungle. Annoyed by them constantly slapping him in the face, he angrily ripped one off the ceiling in defiance, it falling into his hands.

It was a deep red zip-up hoodie, with a tiny embroidered red, blue and white logo. Tommy Hilfinger, or whatever it was. What was important was its tight, long sleeves, perfect for him to tuck the cuffs under. The hood was also a bonus, giving him the ability to hide his face from the police.

Happy with his decision, Chase went to take his ACME jacket off to see if it would fit but stopped. He felt the quality of fabric between his fingers as he held the corners. He couldn't bare taking it off to discard it for some knock off, but he couldn't walk around holding it either. So he looked back up and yanked down a larger model, big enough to fit over his shirt and suit jacket.

He moved back out the front looking around for where you pay, a young woman sitting behind a table near the entrance. Chase threw down the item, looking back out onto the street behind him.

"10 pounds, cash only."

Chase grumbled, grabbing his wallet from his back pocket. His backside was still wet from before and he could smell the dirt drying into his clothes.

He pulled out a wad of cash, filtering through the different currencies until landing on a 10-pound note to hand over.

She took the note while looking him over, then down at his cuffed wrist raising a brow. Chase noticed her judgement and glared back.

"You do know that selling counterfeit products is illegal."

He snapped at her, trying to deflect some frustration away from himself. She scoffed at his threat.

"I never advertised it as the real thing, so, what ya gonna do, arrest me?"

The woman spoke confidently back, smiling as she slid the jacket in his direction. Chase gave her a dirty look, snatching the jacket revealing the cuff around his wrist. She chuckled pointing at it in awe.

"Hypocrite."

She hissed, Chase promptly retreating back to the sidewalk. He pulled the hooded jumper over his suit tucking the cuff in beneath the sleeve. He zipped it up tight, flipping the hood over his head shoving his hands into the front pockets.

He started walking the right way up the market at a hurried pace. The crowd had thinned due to the rain picking up, meaning he quickly made it out. Making sure to go the opposite way to the police car parked nearby.

Chase warped his mouth into a fierce scowl as he stormed down the path, keeping his face to his feet to avoid the cold rain. Currently, he had no idea where he was or where he was going. All he knew was that he needed to return to where his whole day went south, the bus parking bay.

After a few hours of aimlessly wandering about Bristol, Chase finally utilised his common sense to use his phone's GPS to find his way back. He was cold, wet, tired and most importantly, angry.

During his walk, he had a lot of time to ponder and stew over how this ACME arrangement was transpiring. Chase knew for certain that Chief loathed his existence, yes, but he could not fathom why she would hire him back, tell him that he's going to track down Carmen Sandiego then forbid him to do so. It boiled his blood that he was unable to do any actual detective work.

Chase watched the small icon on his phone move closer towards his designated target, the corner grocer he was told to watch. As he rounded the block, grocer now in plain view the rain let up.

He was back, finally after many long wet hours.

Chase shoved his phone into his front pocket and turned expecting to see the car. Unfortunately, it was gone, having been towed away. His face softened, clearly stuck in a delusion that car would remain despite being in a no parking zone.

No no no no no!

He jogged over, stopping right where he was thrown out of his car that morning. All that remained were a few soggy Doritos that had bled their orange colour across the concrete.

"ARGH!"

Chase yelled up at the sky, uncaring if he drew attention to himself. The worst thing of all? His ACME pen was nowhere to be found.

He kicked a wet chip as a truculent response to his situation onto the road. A man exiting the grocer across the road who witness the spectacle gave him a strange look.

Chase made a fist with both hands and looked menacingly over the road, the man quickly moving on in response. That was it. He was going to enter the location, scout the area and attempt to find any signs of VILE or gosh darn it, Carmen fucking Sandiego.

He strode across the road not looking to see if a car was coming, making it there alive by god's grace busting inside.

A tiny bell rang as loud as it possibly could as he threw open the door. The worker at the counter stared right at him with confusion. Chase cleared his throat, adjusted his hood and proceeded down the nearest aisle. Scoping the scene, Chase eyed up one of the security cameras by mistake, hoping it wasn't once ACME had access too. He had yet to look at the video feed available to him on that boring little USB turned remote surveillance hotspot. It was rare to have a feed of the inside to site he was watching but he wasn't going to risk finding out the hard way.

Chase pretended to browse the wares up and down each looking at every wall and door trying to seem not too suspicious. Only one door deemed worthy of his attention, and that was the employees only one right near the counter. He weighed up his chases of getting inside undetected. The chases were slim. He stopped his pacing for a moment and thought of a possible distraction when his eyes fixed upon a mint display right in front of him.

A deep craving coated his tongue as he picked up a pack between his fingers, getting an idea at the same time.

Chase grabbed the box full of mints, and dropped it to the floor, them scattering around making quite a bit of noise. Quickly, he sidestepped out of site from the mess hearing a loud sigh from the front of the store. From behind an isle, Chase watched as the man moved away and over to distraction he orchestrated.

Using this one chance, Chase tiptoed over to the staff only door behind the counter and went to open it. Sadly, it was locked.

Whispering a few choice words to himself, he twisted the handle in all directions pulling as hard as he could angrily. His brief moment was up, and he quickly stepped back in front of the counter, acting natural. He cursed to himself, devastated at his plan failing but he wasn't surprised. Everything had been on a steady decline since he was born.

Chase stood stiff as the clerk returned to his post, looking less than pleased. He placed his single roll of mints onto the counter as the man frowned, knowing he was the one who made the mess. Chase ignored the man's displeased glance and looked at the door locked door he that he would never discover what lurked inside.

"Anything else?"

Chase moved his eyes to the side when he spoke, hearing his words but not addressing them just yet. He looked at the wall of cigarettes behind the worker, feeling his mouth overproduce saliva hungrily once again.

"Uh, do you sell, Gauloise, blonde?"

He wasn't sure what brands they had here. It had been quite a while since he indulged. Back in Paris, he used to smoke Gauloise, very potent. He couldn't remember any other brand than that.

Judging by the man’s puzzled look he had no idea what he said. He sighed, adjusting his collar, glancing back to the sign filled with cigarette brand names. Only one caught his eye.

"Marlboro gold 20s, and a lighter".

Chase stated, the man instinctively getting him what he desired.

"12 pounds 45."

He paid the man with cash and left before he could even get his change. Before even out the door he had peeled off the plastic protector letting the wind take it away. Cracking the box, a faint, but dignified scent welcomed him back with open arms. Chase pulled one out flicking his lighter at the end to light it as he scuttled into the alley next to the building.

Perching his lips to the paper, he drew in a deep breath. The fumes burned around his mouth and then down his throat. He held the smoke within his lungs until his eyes watered, letting it out through his nose in a long stream of cloudy air.

He looked down at his shoes, the finished butt left by the school kid dumped in the space between his feet swollen from the rain. Chase took another long breath before discarding his own there too as if it was only fitting to do so.

Chase wasn't disappointed in himself nor was he proud, he was just letting himself have a moment of peace, even if it burned so good. Pleasure is indeed often indistinguishable from pain.

He put the rest of the carton away into one of his front jumper pockets retrieving the mints, popping one into his mouth. He crunched down into it, then took a few more for good measure glancing around this alleyway.

It was strangely clean for a side alley, the only debris being the two used cigarettes at his feet. With nothing better to do than return to his hotel in defeat, he decided to have a look around

Chase walked deeper into the alley, stretching the entire length of the grocery connected to it. The ground was smooth, brick walls nicely maintained and the only signs of wear and tear were a few oil spots on the ground. It certainly was odd the notion piquing his interest. He followed the building until he reached its back corner, the alley continuing behind. That's when he saw something that screamed ulterior motive.

At the end of the bend, was a solid grey brick wall with a strange shine to it. This 'brick' was not brick. With a smile beginning to form across his face Chase removed his soaked through hood, his hair just as wet. He approached the wall placing a hand to it. It was cold, the kind of cold that sucked the heat out from your own body. It was metal, made to look like brick.

Very interesting

Tantalised by this fearsome metal barriers existence behind a simple grocer, he knew in his gut that this was a clear sign that nefarious things were going on around here. And he was going to be the one to uncover them, his way. Step one was seeing what was on the other side.

Clapping his hands together as if achieving a new lease on life he stepped backward eyeing up the wall. Taking a deep breath, some smoke still trapped within his lungs freed themselves as he crouched down. Without a second thought, he sprinted at the wall, kicking off from it to launch himself up. His hands grasped the top of the wall, forcing an elbow up, then the rest of his body, dropping himself over landing on his feet.

To his dismay, it was just more alley, the only thing here was a large bin and weird green door with no handle. Determined to find something he forced himself over to inspect the bin. Strangely enough, the bin didn't stink as he expected it too, not at all and decided maybe he should inspect it, as bins normally smelt terrible.

Chase opened the heavy black lid, slamming it accidentally against the wall, peering inside. The alley may have been poorly lit, but he could see exactly what was hiding within.

6 plastic boxes sat inside, each bearing a VILE logo. Chase had to stop himself from squealing out of pure excitement, fisting the air instead.

"What kind of import-export company keeps its stock from a bin in a back alley? AN EVIL ONE THAT'S WHAT!"

He celebrated his find with himself, eagerly using his brain yet again to take out his phone and snap a few images of his discovery. Chase knew that he needed proof, more than images so he jumped inside the bin cracking one of the boxes.

Inside were tightly packed plastic-wrapped white bricks.

Cocaine.

Chase pulled one out, accessing its weight in awe, chuckling to himself. Oh, how this reminded him of his real lead detective days. Taking another picture of the open container, he decided to keep one, as discernible proof.

Chase jumped back out of the bin making sure everything was the same as before, closing the lid with a smack. He looked at the giant parcel of powdered drugs in his hands and just smiled, lifting his first layer of clothes. He wasn't sure how he was going to break the news to Chief but he knew he needed more evidence to back up his findings. There was no way he could confront Chief with just some images of a bin, a wad of drugs and his word hoping that she'd even listen. The fact that he was even here was absolutely against her orders.

He tucked the brick into his ACME coat, placing the red hoodie back over the top, slapping the cocaine hidden beneath his clothes like one would a full belly after a meal. Either way, he was going to need the ACME database to back up what he just found. He was going to show Chief that he knew what he was doing.

Chase gave himself another run-up and climbed back over the wall landing heavier to the ground than before. He placed a hand to the package, knowing where he needed to go to next. His laptop and was barely usable ever since he snapped it in half. Duct tape can only fix so much. He was going to need a new laptop, to begin with, and he knew where to find one: a designated ACME research office.

Chase wasn't sure where one was exactly and he wasn't about to give Chief a ring to find out. He knew for certain that there was one major ACME hub in every major city deemed worthy, typically hidden in the shadows of a well-known location.

The trouble for him was working out exactly where that might be.

With a clear purpose, Chase stepped confidently out of the alley and marched down the street.

All he needed now was the local police to catch up with him and find him with his new partner in crime; His big ol brick of cocaine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you x1000 for reading.
> 
> Chase bursting into ACME HQ with his evidence before giving context as to why he's even here like:  
> 


	5. Bonfire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the extended wait on this chapter. As compensation, it's twice as long. I hope you all dig it and do, please, leave any feedback you may have. I would love to know if you guys are liking it so far, it's hard to tell. ENJOY MY PEEPS.

### Chapter 5 - Bonfire

Chase spent the entire rainy afternoon hopping between each landmark and historical building within Bristol. He slapped his ACME card against every wall and door, trying to find an ACME office. It was getting to a point where he doubted there even was one.

Dusk loomed on the horizon as an ever-growing chill set in, a dark shroud following close behind. He hadn't been able to get dry since that morning. His clothes were in a state of constant dampness that made his fingers numb.

The first place he went to was Queen's Square. He was close by already and confidently assumed they would have set up shop within. It was the centre of Bristol, so an obvious choice. Unfortunately, he was wrong and spent too much of his time inspecting each wall and door in the area. After that, a lot of his newly gained 'joie de vivre' had faded along with his patience.

From there, he went to every place of interest listed on a tourist website he referenced for help. Chase wasn't one to stop and smell the roses or indulge in site seeing while on a job. It wasn't professional.

The hours had passed, and the sun had set. He had run through his list and began to meander back to his 2-star hotel.

Having spent a good part of the day navigating around the city, he ended up knowing it well. Not that the information would even be useful within a few days. In 4 days Chase would be on another plane going to who knows where.

Chase clutched the solid brick of illegal substance through his front hoodie pocket as he walked. He had kept it nestled under his clothes for the last few hours for safekeeping. It made it look as if he had some kind of box-like beer belly. Especially the way he held it when someone would stare too long. Its entire existence made him nervous to where his mind spun, making him nauseous. It kept him dedicated to the task as it became plain that the moment he fished it from its garbage bin home, there was no going back.

It wasn't like he could just go back hoping nothing had changed. Return it completely covered in his fingerprints, DNA and slightly wet inside with a note saying:

> Found this in your dumpster, didn't mean to take, it sorry it's wet,  
> no hard feelings, I won't tell the police, please don't kill me, drugs are great,  
> thank you bye.

Chase had thought it over and knew that along with him being bad at writing notes, he didn't have any paper on him. Or a pen. All he could think about was how Chief would find him headless in that ditch. A fact she so eloquently stated would be his fate if he messed up. And it was starting to feel like he already had.

Street lights around him began to flutter on as night set in, coating the puddled ground in a warm yellow glaze. The rain continued steadily as a constant stream of water ran from his hairline to his chin. The head-warmed water always making a pit stop around the corner of his lips before heading on to run down his neck. This never-ending river of warm scalp water was the only thing keeping him from trembling continually

Chase reached an intersection he had crossed a few times that day. Hunched, trying to maintain body heat, he slid out a fist and mashed the crosswalk button. He was right near the Bristol Museum and Art Gallery. In fact, it was right behind him. This place was one of the first he visited on his trip around Bristol for the elusive ACME office. Chase had already been inside and poked around leaving a watery trail. Shortly after that, he was kicked out for touching too many walls and doors with his card. That and getting caught in the restricted areas.

He argued that these restrictions were ruining his: 'Authentic learning experience about mostly stolen cultural pieces and art from past and present conquered or enslaved countries of the English monarchy'. But all that did was piss them off to the point of throwing him out. He may not be an art connoisseur or history buff but he fathomed enough to have a quick jab to make himself feel better.

Chase waited for the faint timer to click indicating when it was his time to walk. A small part of his mind made him look back upon the now deserted building. As if in memory of those events with a fond smile. How flustered he made that museum curator was a small victory he would treasure forever.

It was surrounded by a ring of bright ornate street lanterns that now, admittedly, made it look a lot more appealing. Their light caressed the stone of castle-like structure giving it an almost intimidating, grand feel. It stood, proud and now finally devoid of people standing around it in immovable noisy clusters.

The crosswalk bleeped telling him it was time to cross, Chase choosing to ignore it. He was strangely intrigued by its empty visage, finally able to focus on the impressive architecture. Not on the annoying crowds and loud fog of chatter that would normally surround such a place. It was only him and the building sharing a moment of comforting silence and mutual appreciation.

He ended up drifting away from the intersection as if the building had called him over. Within moments, he was standing right in the middle of the empty square looking up at it. He was a short way from the stairs that led to the front door that now sat shut.

Another warm drop trickled from his scalp down to his nose. Chase moved a damp hand up to wipe his face, smothering his face with his cool palm. He was tired, mentally and physically. Also carrying around a 1 kilogram of cocaine for hours trying to keep it hidden did a surprising number on his lower back.

Out of the corner of his eye, a silhouette appeared to his left, walking out from the side of the building. They held an umbrella and walked fast-paced, their clacky shoes echoing throughout the square. They appeared to be coming his way. At first, he thought nothing much of it adjusting his shoulders, feeling a part of him decide it may be best to move on. The figure marched closer before he could shuffle away, Chase suddenly able to see them better, even what they were wearing: An ACME suit.

He gasped abruptly, hoping that they hadn't seen him just yet. Chase galloped up to the doors of the museum two steps at a time, catching the tip of his shoe on the last one. He quickly compressed himself against the rough brick near the hinge of the great door. He tried his best to disappear into the shadows.

The sound of shoes on pavement approached hastily, Chase making sure to peer out of the darkness to get a better look. As they passed he carefully stole a glance to confirm what he believed. It was an ACME agent. A woman wearing a typical dark navy suit and skirt, glasses and briefcase in their other hand as well.

He couldn't believe it. There was indeed something ACME related hidden within this building. Chase was willing to bet there was an intel office stashed away somewhere close by.

Chase patted the stone of the building he used as cover as if to thank it for its services. He smirked, a small tingle of excitement bubbled in his empty stomach giving him a little burst of energy.

Barely waiting until the fellow agent had left the scene, he jumped out of the gloom and into a state of pure determination. He fastened his stride to where he knew they emerged from, rounding the side of the building. Everything around him was getting darker and colder, having to rely on the adorned lights that lit the area around it quite poorly. Chase rounded the building looking back up at it eagerly. He was now behind the monument, a place less flashy than the front. The ground beneath him turned to crumbly gravel causing Chase to stumble a little from the change. It crunched with each step pushing up and over his shoes, making it impossible to walk straight. He cursed to himself trying to keep his footing when a single burst of light beamed through the rainy night. It was stuck on the wall like a horrible growth encased in a little cage, emitting a sickly fluorescent glow. It was stationed above a stained blue door that sat tucked away between two large garbage bins.

His breath hitched as he hurridly waddled over kicking up the loose stone in the process. It seemed the major theme for today was that garbage bins hold all the secrets. Feeling his chin quiver from the cold a small puff of misty vapour escaped between his lips. He squeezed his wrinkled fingers together holding his own hand for support. The door seemed to hum at him as if trying to tell him he shouldn’t be here. Chase looked down at the handle, slipping a hand between his layer of clothing for his ACME card. It was abnormally modern in comparison to its surroundings with a large metal pad above it. This was it. This was what he was looking for.

Chase pressed his card to the pad, hearing a latch click in conformation from within. The handle bent on its own and he grabbed it, forcing it down the rest of the way. He pushed open the door, a cool dry breeze to wafting out. It was filled with a familiar antiseptic smell that was soothing as much as it was intimidating. He swallowed, placing his card into his back pocket stepping inside, the door almost slamming itself closed behind him.

A light grey concrete set of stairs stretched out bellow him, connected to a corridor moderately well lit. He took a breath, ready to get what he came for and then get out pronto. Chase’s mind pondered and promptly gathered that the reason he wasn’t informed of the place earlier was that he wasn’t meant to be here. His ACME laptop living in a constant state of ‘child-mode’ was a testament to that. Chase was here to get a new laptop without being seen, that was it.

About to place a damp shoe onto the step below, the illicit packaged he had been cradling without incident all afternoon slipped from his grasp tumbling down the stairs. It hit every corner on it’s decent, puffing out clouds of dust as it’s wrappings split from the fall damage. Its contents littered the steps as it landed finally at the bottom with a thud. A final puff of powder whirling into the air as if its dying breath.

Chase stared wide-eyed filled with pure terror at the sight. Feeling the cool spot where the parcel had been sitting against his stomach for so long with his hand. Realising what just transpired, he skipped down the stairs himself, skidding on the powder that laced the stairs like an icy slick. He tried to kick it away as he tumbled down, dusting it into the corners with his hands. It stuck to his damp skin as he frantically wiped it away on his pants and the wall like a child would smear whatever came out of their nose onto furniture. He did not have the time to deal with such a degree of tomfoolery.

He scooped up the less-than-appealing bundle of dusty drugs and plastic wrap. It’s contents softly spilling out from his grasp like sand through one’s fingers. It was everywhere. He could even feel it on his face, the small granules sticking to his skin as if he just spent a day at the beach. Chase pressed the remaining packing back in on itself trying to plug it’s leakage when he had an idea. Unzipping his hoodie he peeled it off his arms, the cuff finally free dangling around with its newfound liberation. He has almost forgotten about that. He decided that the jacket now had a new, more important use. Chase wrapped it up in the jumper securely, gathering all the loose powder he could from the ground. Dusting it off his palms.

Chase stood clutching the red bundle in his arms like a precious newborn. He took a deep sharp breath and continuing down the hall as naturally as possible. He wiped his brow, feeling a mix of rain, sweat and cocaine rub onto his hand. Chief was right, he was a walking disaster zone that had now been rolled in a fine layer of cocaine. Like a doughnut swirled in sugar.

His heeled shoes clopped against the hard floor as he forced the lump of nerves back down his throat. It wasn’t long until he came to a dead-end that split itself up into two identical doors. Taking a chance, he creaked open the one to his right, it filled with still darkness inside.

Chase peeked his head inside looking around. The room was empty, a few sparse blinking red and green lights dotting the black. He crept in, pushing the door to stay open so he could see inside. Wanting to touch as little as possible, he kept his arms to his sides sneaking in. The light from the corridor revealed an office, a lot nicer than the one he expected. The wall parallel was reflective. A screen, that looked protectively out over a long table that had a few roller chairs tucked under it. Placed nicely atop the desk sat exactly what he was looking for. A new laptop. There were a few of them, all placed neatly next to one another in a row.

Chase tucked the bundle under his arm picking up one from the end with his fingertips.

The sound of a heavy door opening diverted his focus, spinning his head around to the sound. Time seemed to slow down as the door to the other room opened. It seems he wasn’t as alone as he had hoped.

Panic flooded itself into Chase’s overburdened cerebral cortex, flushing his cheeks pink in alarm. Choosing flight rather than fight, Chase knew there was no way he could get out without being seen in some capacity. So without further delay, he decided to throw himself over the desk to hide.

Like a graceful gazelle bouncing away from a predator, he vaulted over the desk one-handed. The dangling handcuff smacking loudly against the desk. Chase tucked himself in, hoping that the darkness plus a chair for added cover would hide him well enough. Luckily he had taken the red jumper off to swaddle his broken drug parcel. Thanks to dark ACME suit jacket and pants the shadows welcomed him back with open arms.

Chase peaked through the chair, squinting out into the bright hall and at the cause of his fright. His jaw clenched tight at the site, thoroughly bewildered. The large clump of nerves in his throat forced its way into his mouth like it had tired to do all day. This time he had no power to stop it. His lungs coiled in on themselves as he coarsely took a hushed breath in.

It was Ms Argent. _Julia_ Argent. **Agent** Argent.

His mind spat out every iteration of her name as if to rationalise seeing her again in some way. It didn’t help. She looked different, no longer dressing in that fancy pantsuit she always donned. Now wearing an ACME suit and glasses like the rest of the flock, as well as a thick jacket with a high collar.

She shut the door to her side and glanced right in his direction, brows furrowed. Chase ripped his gaze away instantly. Praying for a God he didn’t believe existed to evaporate his body from existence. He was not ready to face her in any capacity. Especially when coated in illicit dust, half cuffed and looking like a drowned rat pulled fresh from a storm drain. Specific ramifications of him even being here were left to fizzle on the back burner for now. The prospect of having _her_ behold _him_ in such a state after their little argument many months beforehand mortified him more.

Her shoes tapped lightly against the ground as Chase carefully glanced over his shoulder. She was frowning his way but her eyes weren’t focused on him. Though it felt like they ought to be. Her head was in the doorway holding the handle while she gazed around curiously. A part of his mind made him bend his mouth into a forlorn pout. She was doing a lot better than he was, a thought that made him more despondent than it did bitter to his surprise. His eyes softened with his jaw, using all his pent up might to squeeze the hoodie and laptop into his chest. He could take some solace in the fact that at least Chief was honest with him back when he was let go. She did indeed stay on with ACME, his time as her partner hadn’t despoiled her career as well.

Julia sighed touching a finger delicately to her glasses, shutting the door. Chase sat in the murk, the blinking light from various tech objects around the room fluttering like multicoloured stars in the sky. He stretched out his legs, feeling his back thank him for finally caring enough to give it a break.

Chase listened to her shoes clack away in the distance as he stood, using the desk as a guide back to the door. He clasped the handle, cautiously cracking it open. He poked his nose out, enough to see her starting up the stairs. Julia slid a little as she placed a foot down onto the first step, on what only could be the leftover film of cocaine Chase had graciously left on the floor. She huffed, dusting off her shoe before continuing with an unimpressed breath.

He waited until he heard the loud close of the door to the outside before he exited the room he hid in. Chase plunged a hand into his all his pockets, eventually fishing out his phone.

It was 8.02 pm.

It seemed no one was exempt from ungodly working hours, even those a proverbial pet to the boss.

That was an unfair conjecture to make about her.

Chase questioned himself through much annoyance with his conscience. Ms Argent was always a hard worker no matter what, something they had in common. She seemed to gain the favourable admiration from all around her. Yet still maintained such due diligence to her craft as if unwilling to acknowledge it. Chase would give anything to have people think that way about him once more. He missed being important, valued, revered.

He began to follow in her footsteps up to the stairs, it was time to head back to his hotel.

22 hours later

He hadn’t moved apart from changing which leg he crossed over the other whenever one would shriek for relief over the other.

Chase bolted back to his hotel as fast as he could in a mix of excitement and trepidation. He hadn’t planned on seeing Ms Argent so soon or at all at that matter. Chase was ordered to blatantly forget he knew her and he had tried to, along with ACME for his sanity. Luckily his deep dive into ACME’s expansive crime net took full control over his brief moment of reminiscing over emotional baggage.

Chase was very susceptible to addictive things or activities. He obsessed on certain details, ideas or people to a worrying extent if left unchecked. It appeared that his lust for details to prove his point acclimated itself into a never-ending plunge into the ACME database. There was just so much to discover once he got in. Thanks to Julia.

He realised that even with a new properly working computer that his numbers were a dud. He wasn’t going to get anyway with them. Luckily, he managed to remember Julia’s, with a little trial and error. They were very similar to his own since they joined at the same time. Chase recalled vividly forgetting his own a few times when they had worked together. She ended up writing hers down for him to use instead of his own. He could still clearly see the way she conjured up an oddly pitying smile for him when she presented them for his use to this day. It irritated him right down to his core how she would so often give him such a benign glance as if he was some imbecilic cretin. It seemed her existence was just to highlight the things he was horrid at.

Even with that memory playing in the back of his mind, Chase ploughed through.

Using Julia’s login in he was finally able to access the complete network. It was glorious. At first, he researched up about the grocer he was tasked to watch. The case he was on. Initially, it was clear the information he was personally presented with about the area had been watered down. Now he could see receipts, tax reports, security footage and even images and full IDs of people seen frequenting.

The area had been a hotspot for drug trafficking for 8 years and was used as a drop-off point. It was stated that ACME was unaware if the owner was cognizant to the crimes happening on-site, a reason why it remained untouched for so long. This fact puzzled Chase. A lot of the official reports on many locations, events or cases ended this way. All reporting, examining and probing were halted the moment recognition of their existence was questioned or civilian input was required to continue. An extremely frivolous reason to stop investigating. There were so many leads left in the air as if one was too afraid that they would be seen if they investigated. It was a themed Chase quickly picked up on. It worried him more than he thought it would.

As a person who once investigated major crimes within Paris, he found it odd that they would tip-toe around such pertinent cases doing nothing more than milling around it. They were a powerful organisation with the strength to do as they pleased yet they barely did a thing. Chase had managed an underbudget police tasks force to stop people from stealing postal boxes who did more for the greater good than ACME. Some of the cases Chase recognised, some he had even worked partly on in the past. He had no idea the depth this VILE had within the criminal community and general society as well. They were some kind of empire, a hub. Now he did. He understood.

Certain cases and reports caught his attention to the point where he wanted a copy of them for himself. As his evidence. He wanted to do his own research, a part of his soul screaming desperately for it.

Throughout the time, Chase got to a point where he managed to tear himself away for a moment on an important task. The hotel he was in did have a printer but it was in a public area. He didn’t want to sit out in that dodgy lobby while wielding such delicate information. So he forced himself out onto the town and bought a printer himself, along with some office supplies. It was cheap and nasty but with some gin, smokes and mints he picked up on the way back, it all didn’t seem so bad.

Being able to view the whole picture of this organisation in a self-devised timeline, everything seemed to messily piece together. There were a few holes which he couldn’t seem to fill, even when he had everything placed out chronologically in front of him. It appeared that ACME was always a step behind them, forever unaware just enough of what they were doing before they did it. It all started with a man called Dexter Wolfe shot dead and a house burnt down in Argentina. An occurrence Chief, Tamara Fraser, managed to turn her brash slipup into a multi-billion dollar organisation.

_Quite ironic._

He thought.

Chase sifted through the planning and evidence that lead to the beginning of it all and it was clear they were on the right track. He could see why she dedicated her life to this. VILE had their net cast wide.

After many hours of being entirely off task, Chase had scanned through every case file on digital record. He then moved on and delved deeper into the ACME data. He ended up screening through every receipt, email, memo, financial statement and even all employee files. He made sure he looked through his own thoroughly. It was accurate and detailed to some concerning degree. The only personal file he didn't strip through was Julia's. He felt it was an invasion of her privacy, even if he desperately wanted to take a peek. For hours he kept coming back, thinking he may as well take a look but every time his conscience stopped him in his tracks. He didn't really know anyone else on the list of personal apart from her and himself. It made him too uncomfortable to pry. Knowing so much about someone he actually knew was disconcerting.

With everything picked through, the conclusion he couldn’t help coming to wasn’t about VILE or even Carmen Sandiego, but ACME instead. He couldn’t wrap his head around how they were able to keep in business, especially early on. For years, the task force turned up nothing substantial, just crumbs. Yet, they continued to function. Chase knew first hand that task forces like the one Chief led that continually turned up nothing, were shut down and shut down quick. So it was odd how they were able to keep funding for so long.

The years progressed until they separated from the American government and sprouted into a full-fledged organisation. They were now a separate entity. One who would no longer receive periodic funding from the government they were once apart of. ACME did not provide a payable service, thus produced no profits, yet they always had a good cash inflow to his discovery. This is what perplexed him the most. From pieces of past receipts, ACME had received countless ‘donations’ in varying currencies. The invoices were scant with detail and either marked with a place holder name or acronym he couldn’t trace to anything. Every statement marked with some strange degree of mysteriously large monetary largesse, Chase had printed. It seems he had more pressing questions about Chief then he did VILE.

The strangest thing of all was that there was no mention of Carmen Sandiego. Not even within the cases he knew she was apart of. It was like she had been edited out of ACME's records. No sign of even her name remaining.

Chase drew a large breath through the cigarette he held tentatively between his fingertips. The ash fell onto his lap as he stared at the screen. His pointer moved along the touchpad and down through the email he was currently moseying through. He was getting down the last few emails within Ms Argents account, signally the end of his informational escapade.

He sighed, pushing a stream of smoke out through his nostrils, pressing the butt into a plate he turned into an astray. It was full to the brim of ash and half-smoked cigarettes. They kept his starvation at bay, a few mints and a sip of liquor here and there quelled any cravings for nutrition. Sadly, right now he had to wait another hour and 25 minutes before he could drink again. He couldn’t break the rules when it came to his medication, no matter how ansie it made him. There was a reason for it, alcohol plus mood-altering medication did not equal a good outcome. Especially since he had been so productive. He didn't want to mess that up, feeling like a real detective once again

Chase had spent an entire day and night in this room. He had officially neglected his duties as an ACME agent and now, temporarily, served his own agender. Strangely, none of this was about Carmen Sandiego. She was second to the need to prove that he was right and useful. Even that notion was shoved aside when his obsessive tendencies took control.

It had been a long time since he’d gone headfirst into a case like this. It felt oddly satisfying possessing a chance to mould his thoughts constructively. His brain started to click and turn over, loosening the cobwebs that had formed from an extended period of quiescent. His various notes and personal additions scribbled all over the printouts were testament to that.

All other aspects of life weren’t important right now. His room had turned into a smokey den that never saw the sun. He hadn’t bathed in a few days nor alter his clothes or habits. All he did to change his appearance was roll up the sleeves on his only casual grey shirt far past his elbows to keep them out of the way.

Chase clicked back into the mail system, he had just read the last one. Sighing he leaned back disappointed, stretching his arms above his head squeezing his tired eyes shut. He had hoped there would be more interesting information within her emails, even if they were a few months old.

He slapped his hands back down onto the edge of the table taking a moment to glance out at the messy piles of paperwork he had collected. Some of them were half in binders or files, but most lay in ‘organised’ piles. He knew it was probably time to arrange them into a better more concise arrangement. His eyes made their way back to the screen, stopping at his still sort of cuffed wrist. Chase had managed to unhook the extra dangling part of the handcuff with a knife the day before. Now it looked like he had some sort of goth-like bracelet on. It was, less than ideal but the best he could do with the minimal tools in his possession.

As he started to ponder how he could maybe break the last of it off when the laptop made a soft ‘bloop’ noise. Chase shot his eyes back onto the screen. He hadn’t heard it do that before. Scanning the screen, he noticed the inbox had a small marker next to it, a little exclamation mark. He clicked it, a new page popping up into view. A list of new, unread emails appeared to greet him. He smiled. It became pretty clear that he had been only reading the previously read emails.

Chase rubbed his palms together. He was already this deep, might as well read her new emails for her. It was very apparent that Julia was a few months behind on her emails, a strange occurrence for someone perpetually prepared. Chase was glad, happy even, to assist her with that after how much help she had been so far. He was just that nice a guy. And also extremely nosy.

He clicked onto each one, skimming through. Most were just more boring report confirmations, a few memos and one schedule change. But then something caught his eye. One email was titled with his last name followed by some numbers. It was dated 2 months prior, on the date he was rehired. Chase paused for a moment unsure of what he was about to find, his heart pounding with concern.

Why was his name here?

He hovered the pointer over before clicking it open, the words emerging onto the screen. It was brief but detailed at the same time. As he read it, his ears went numb.

Chase’s throat dried up as it attempted to close its self off, making it hard to swallow. The blood that pumped throughout his hands seemed to retreat leaving them cold, curling up, nails turning purple. His brows crossed, nose flaring.

Chase read it again. Another time, then once more. Each instance he felt another part of him shut down. The strength he used to fuel his anger was insufficient, ruled more and more useless each time he concluded the email in its entirety.

It went as follows:

> Devineaux C8450
> 
> Due to recent events regarding a security breach incited by the fugitive Carmen Sandiego matters concerning the former agent known as Chase Devineaux will be reactivated. His use will be monitored as such and will now classify as an ACME commodity, not personnel until his desired use has been achieved. In the case where we are successful, that results in a particular outcome, measures will be taken the ensure public knowledge is kept minimal. This should prove to be securely achievable due to the lack thereof of immediate family and or social connections. (see user file).
> 
> Devineaux is known by VILE and is assumed to be within its informational network. His intended use will be to benefit from his connection to them to draw VILE out to his location. He will be physically wired and told to stay within certain confines so he can be easily obtained or extracted if, in the best scenario, taken to a VILE local. Devineaux will only serve menial tasks until his purpose as a controlled decoy is performed or ruled impertinent.
> 
> Reduced expenses, no vehicles will be issued (see damage report 1, 2) commercial flights only and no partner will be supplied.
> 
> I understand this a practice we have not utilised due to HR reasons since 2011 (see case C90, C004 and C2TB7) but do understand that dire straights require difficult decisions. We must sacrifice one insignificant individual for the greater good of the many.
> 
> The Chief.
> 
> Voice transcript coded and edited on-site 4.36 pm GMT-8 by Agent Felanto.

The hotel room was filled with a static sound produced by his ears as if to distract himself from what lay before him. His temple ached from the strain his eyes were under as he hadn’t cared to blink to relieve them.

Chase leaned forward, resting an elbow on the desk and gripped the front collar band of his shirt. He pulled it up and over his mouth biting down onto the fabric hard, his teeth tingling with an uncomfortable sensation. Taking a nice deep breath in through his nose, he quelled the seething anger that resided permanently within his soul.

He wasn’t surprised. Caught off guard maybe by the blatancy of it but he wasn’t surprised. It explained a lot, why he had spent the last few months doing nothing of real importance, why his devices were nothing more than childish replicas. It was made clear, he was an object of ACME, a tool. Not a person. Like a stapler, but not as important. A stapler stuck two pieces of paper together, a useful object used by millions. All Chase did was act like a bucket of chum for VILE and not a very appetizing one.

Chase was embarrassed above it all, he felt like a complete fool. Walking around the way he did as if he was worth something to them. When everyone else shared this secret of his inferiority, snickering at his pride behind his back. It was like they didn’t even care about what he had achieved in the past, his only redeeming quality that he was an easy target.

He opened his eyes placing a hand on the rim of the laptop screen, shutting it. He stood, pushing the chair back with his legs. Pressing his palms into the table he looked out at the work he had done feeling his legs stiffen. He kept his jaw locked, sending a painful sting throughout the nerves buried in his teeth. It was the only way he could stop himself from breaking the table in two with his fists.

They seemed to have him all figured out. He was a conceited, loquacious schlemiel wrapped up in a joke, whose life didn’t fit into their future calculations. The audacity to treat him in such a way, such a callous manner. And Ms Argent was in on it. At least Julia would have aware that she was if she had kept up with her emails.

_Well._

He thought.

_I shall not grant them such pleasures they so desperately crave of finding VILE by my hand. They will have to locate my discarded mangled, bloating corpse floating down a fucking river, the hard way. I will make sure of it._

He uttered to himself, grabbing the chair and tossing it out of his path. He shot his eyes to his bed where his ACME suit lay waiting. He knew exactly where and how they were keeping tabs on him. They had bugged his ensemble for sure. They knew he longed for this suit, it was his fault for being openly excited about something for once.

Charging over he snatched the regulation shirt and tie pulling them into his chest. He had to dispose of them.

Chase’s mind raced on how to do the deed, huffing to himself. He desperately wanted a cigarette right about now.

That was it.

_Cigarette. Light. Burn._

Everyone knew that the best way to destroy evidence was to burn it. Snickering, Chase strode into the bathroom flicking the light on. He threw them into the tub pleased with himself. He went back out and gathered his lighter and the rest of his gin. He returned, realising at that moment he still wore the ACME shoes and pants. Berating himself, he quickly ripped them both off and threw them in as well.

Standing there in his underwear, determined to follow through with his decision he poured the last remaining sips of his drink all over the fabric. He plucked out the tie, letting the lighters small flame lick the corner until it took. Chase dropped it back in, the rest quickly catching alight thanks to the added alcoholic advantage.

Chase watched as the fire engulfed the materials. It destroyed the quality stitching along with his respect for what he thought was the paragon of all do-gooders. The burn started to die down, blackening the side of the bath when he realised he forgot something. His jacket. Rolling his eyes, he went back out, pulling the coat off the chair he tossed away earlier. Coming back to his makeshift bonfire, he held it by the collar about to drop it in when he paused. Chase allowed his fingers to caress the silky collar one last time. Letting himself soften his grimace to try and enjoy what was just a dream. That’s when he felt something odd.

Within the stitched collar was a hard thin square. Chase pressed his thumbs all around it sitting back on the toilet. The cool ceramic lid instantly stuck to his bare thighs. Restoring his face to a scowl, he dug his nails under the sewing that kept it together, ripping it up. He tore away until it peeled back revealed a small black box. It was attached to two thin red wires that disappeared into the suits insides. He was right, they had bugged his suit. Furious, he forcibly yanked it up, the line releasing from inside causing the arms to bunch up. He gave it one last pull, snapping the cable from its hold, it easily slipping out.

Chase dropped the jacket onto his lap, holding up the locator devices turning it over. A small silver ACME plaque shone in the bright bathroom light, the smell of singed fabric filling his nostrils. He looked down at his suit with a now mutilated collar, smoke billowing from the bathtub in the background.

His thumb pressed in on the object used to track him, snapping it clean in half like a fragile wafer biscuit.

_Two can play that game, Chief._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!!!!!!!
> 
> Please feel free to hit me up w that feedback and them juicy kudos.
> 
> Chapter 6 will follow shortly. (by shortly I mean after I recover from writing this chapter so who knows when. Ya girl is only ever happy the moment after she's posted her writing, all other times I live in a constant panic of 'i should be writing')


	6. Bitterness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to chapter 6, the chapter where Julia rips Chase a new one. Enjoy your stay.

### Chapter 6 - Bitterness

Chase struggled to keep the back of his collar folded down. The mutilated free edge kept sticking back up into his neck itching his skin. The woman in front of him moved forward up the line, Chase stepping to take her spot. The coffee shop was unusually busy for it being around 4 pm on a weekday. But he was a poor judge of the general public. He spent such little time within it and wasn’t familiar with their regular tendencies. Chase carefully lowered his elbow back down to his side. The shop was small and people were shuffling about everywhere. It was close quarters.

The women ahead of him shifted to the side, it was his turn. The overworked barista eyed him up, indicating it was his turn to order.

''Large Long black. Please.''

Chase raised his voice over the crowd, the boy nodding in response.

''Anything else?''

Chase looked to the side slightly and at the array of sweets kept safe behind glass. There was a sign stuck inside a chocolate and cream eclair that read:

'2 for 3 (or 1 for 2.50)'

Time slowed down around him, the sound muffled by his loud thoughts. His plan for today had already been pushed from the early morning to mid-morning, to midday and then to now, the late afternoon. He wasn’t afraid, god no. He was just, irresolute. Chase’s newfound knowledge of his insignificance made him strangely reflective upon the past. Especially in light of a recent occurrence where he unintentionally came face to face with someone he had slight ties too. Whom you could say he, ‘wronged’. The ties were thin nonetheless, frayed and damaged but still holding on for dear life as if possessing a life of their own.

After facing the reality of his planned demise and burning away his anger, he was left pantless and shoeless to ponder his next move. Turns out he melted his only pair of shoes and had to go down to a suit store in socks the next day. Unfortunately, they didn’t let him on account of his shoeless nature. So he wound up at a T.K Maxx. The only set of shoes in his size was a pair of red and white sneakers with a black stripe down the side. When he returned to the suit store, full ‘Pretty Woman’ and out of spite, purchased the most expensive dress shirt and pants available.

''Sir?''

The server asked again, impatiently.

''4 eclairs.''

He added, snapping back. Chase paid, took his receipt, moved to the side and waited with scores of others all expecting their orders. He glanced out the window to the Museum across the road. A small tingle of wavering nerves clenched his throat shut. Chase tightened his fingers around the black cardboard file resting under his arms against his hip.

He was moderately proud of the research he’d compiled. It made him feel like himself again. Someone who he missed being. A detective, a good one. Chase believed it best with what little time he had left, to pass it onto someone who might be able to make some use out of it. As well as a well-contrived apology that had gone through several drafts. The latter was well overdue. 

Chase tried to write it down but it every time he attempted, it made him squirm. Seeing his misdeeds etched out in ink made them seem too real. Even though what he was apologising for was just not listening to her on a few occasions. And for being uncivil. Rude maybe, officious, sometimes overly abrasive and dismissive of her opinion. He could maybe even stretch it to him being unwilling to accept her as his equal partner due to his crippling jealousy. Either way, it made him queasy.

He had faced hardships, crude observations and ridiculously unfair situations orchestrated by those above and he had unwillingly passed those traditions down the line. And that was without referencing what had just happened not even a day previously. Chase swore that he’d never be like the ones who came before him but it seemed he was destined to absorb their traits and add on a few of his own to the toxic pot.

Chase still wanted to repent, even if she didn’t want to hear it. He hoped it might lift a bit of weight off his soul so when the reaper comes to drag him down to hell he could at least fight a bit better.

''5228.''

Chase looked down at his receipt the moment they called the number out, his matching. Snatching up the white box and take away coffee produced for him he fled the overcrowded scene.

The sunset pierced through the rain clouds that seem to forever loom the city. The sky that peeked through the orange and purple-stained the clouds gave him hope. Chase wasn’t one for being openly optimistic, he was realistic. But at this moment he decided to give in to flights of fancy and imagine a world where he could glue things back together. An alternate reality where things were ok all the time.

The eclair he bit into remained in good shape thanks to the cool weather. People had already begun to meander away from the monument as they prepared to close up for the day. There were still a few groups taking overly touristy pictures in front of the large glass doors. He was going to wait until night, around the same time the last instance he was here.

Chase twisted his wrist up to see the time. It was 5.01 pm. He shoved the rest of the sweet into his mouth looking down at the 3 left. His back softened against the bush he slouched into pulling another roll to his lips. He decided to sit away from the building, in the grassy courtyard of the university right next door. The trees around him were still bare, as the season had just left winter but not enough to sprout new growth.

It was strangely peaceful just sitting there. He rarely got to do so in such nice conditions. The area was unusually beautiful. All these old buildings were. They all sat so nestled between modern conditions yet remained just as elegant as ever. They stood the test of time quite well.

Chase felt a small burst of memory poke his brain. Ms Argent would often feel the need to comment on such things. She would always note the ornateness of an area then comment on their origins and meaning like a lecturer. He fondness for such things didn’t bother him but it was the times that she decided to deliver upon them what irritated him. Sure, towards the end he began jabbing at her regarding her rambles for no reason but-

He stopped his thoughts at the but.

 _There should be no **but** to this._

He gulped down the remnants of the second eclair to shut these thoughts up.

There had been too much time spent alone with his thoughts. They’d turned too personal. Too, reflective. Everything just made him feel uneasy. He knew full well that he was far from a generically ‘nice guy’ but he wasn’t a full-blown asshole.

Chase reached inside the box at 3rd pastry moving his free hand to caress the file against his stomach. He had developed a habit of that. Holding items of importance to his chest as if trying to keep them warm. All his worth was within these pages he had selected for her. His notes finalised and at the end, all of this seemed like a big old fact file on how VILE is everywhere, ACME the definition of a lazy organisation who is being financially supported by an outside source and that someone is keeping the crime net tailored to a certain audience. Maybe he was the only ACME agent with so much spare time that he was able to unearth this or maybe it was clear to everyone. Chase liked to think it was because he was just that good at seeing the bigger picture for once.

_How unconceited of me._

He mumbly joked to himself in reflection to what his late partner scolded him for. For being selfish to think that this was all about him. Sadly this time his fate was deeply entwined with that VILE. Chase got what he wished for.

The area had quickly emptied, only a few students left waiting at a bus stop nearby. Traffic had dissipated, the street noise lifted and a soft breeze crept in signally night was upon him.

Chase lifted his coffee to his lips, washing down the treat with scaldingly hot coffee. He managed to suck most of it out in one mighty sip, feeling a few grains of undissolved raw sugar stick in his teeth.

His mouth still felt minty from his sudden grooming session this morning. After acquiring a new miss-matched ensemble he decided to finally bathe and shave. He had quite a collection of mini soaps and such from every hotel he stayed at. Chase ran out of his own very early on and couldn’t be bothered buying new ones. Everything relating his health and wellbeing seemed like a chore he was always behind on.

Loud footsteps echoed with familiar ping nearby. The sound drew near as Chase sat up to meet it. He remembered that sound, it had to be that ACME agent. History had repeated itself, except this time a few hours earlier than he was anticipating. Feeling those 3 eclairs nearly come right back up, he tried to shrink himself into the dusk turning his face away from the street.

Chase listened with belated breaths as her steps passed him once again fading away into the distance. He turned back to the street feeling his legs ache. This was the sign he was waiting for. His legs told him to go and he listened. Bolting up he gathered his things and walked briskly back to the museum entrance and past. He went around the building and over the gravel to the large bins that hid the entrance. Everything seemed different in the light.

He stood at the door holding the white box that held the last eclair upright. He could feel it soaking its juices into the cardboard, still as cold as if was when it left the fridge. Chase threw the empty coffee into the bin, hearing it break open on contact with the steel base.

This was it. Chase felt his taste buds scream for a tobacco relief, biting his tongue as if telling it to behave. Shoving the file under his arm he dug his hand into his back pocket to produced his ACME card. The corners were darkened and it was bent out of shape. It miraculously endured the fire. He had left it wrapped up within his ACME belongings. It even survived the mini-explosion caused by Chase stupidly throwing his gas gun into the flames. Whatever it was made of, it was very durable.

Pressing it to the metal pad the door clicked, the handle ready to be used. Stepping inside the door shut loudly behind him.

A soft breath filtered through his nose as he started down the stairs. He was sure this was a good idea. Chase had to make amends, he wanted to. She was the closest thing he’d had to a ‘friend’ in years and he decided that when he finally dropped off the face of the Earth, he wanted this loose end tied up.

Chase neared the end of the hall, coming face to face with the two doors like he had a few days before. He turned to the one on the left and lifted a fist to knock. He hesitated.

_Was this really the best move? Maybe I could just slip it under the door and go._

Chase argued with his own thoughts.

_Then that would defeat the purpose of me even being here._

_What if she’s not even in there? How am I to be sure?_

_This is by far the stupidest fucking thing I’ve ever done and I shouldn’t have eaten those 3 shitty eclairs._

The door suddenly moved away from his face, another almost smacking into his fist. It Ms Argent.

Julia gasped then squealed, jolting back, Chase matching her frightful yell with his own. They stared at each other in shock as Chase made the final decision to get the hell out of there as fast as possible.

''Devineaux?''

She questioned positively confused.

He placed the white box down and slapped the Black folder on top. Chase used the tip of his shoe to slide them through the doorway and closer to Julia. He moved back, held his hands up and shot her two-finger guns, before pointing down at the box and answering her question.

‘’No.’’

Chase was not equipped to deal with this and he wasn’t about to learn how. Julia shot her eyes down at the two things shoved her way and responded immediately, crossing her brows.

'' _No?_ ''

Chase turned and walked as fast and calmly as he could away not answering her question. He jumped up the stairs and grabbed the handle pulling it down. It didn’t budge. Feeling his eyes almost bludge out from their sockets he yanked it around frantically. Instantly he smacked his shoulder into the door, desperate for it to open.

''How did you get in here? This is a classified ACME office.''

Julia’s voice appeared at the bottom of the stairs causing Chase to gasp, almost tumbling down. He froze, hoping she that maybe she couldn’t see him if he stood still.

''I locked it.''

She added. Chase let go of the handle to straighten up his jacket trying to remain calm.

''You can’t be in here, you are not with ACME anymore.''

Chase frowned. He was indeed with ACME, there was no way that she didn’t know that. His nervousness melted away as he looked down at her, lightly offended.

''I **am** with ACME.''

Julia held her mouth slightly ajar as he stepped down the stairs till the 2nd last step, flicking out his mangled card with whatever little pride he had left. She plucked it from his fingers and inspected it with a frown.

''So, I have every right to be here. That also means I have every right to **leave** when I choose.''

Julia ignored him.

''Chief hired you back?''

She questioned in an unfamiliar pitch, almost laughing at the notion flipping over the mutilated card before pulling it into her fist. Chase went to answer her query with an equally hostile answer but he was cut off.

''Chief actually _hired_ you back?''

Julia scoffed, pushing his card into his chest forcibly, an act quite out of her character. He put his hand up to meet it, the card falling into his palm.

''Of course Chief did.''

She whispered to herself crossing her arms. Chase opened his mouth to defend himself but was met with a stern finger from the woman standing below him, but clearly above him in every other way.

'' **NO.** ''

She said sternly. A tone he’d only ever heard from her once before.

''No, no, no!''

Julia jutted her finger in his face intimidatingly to keep him quiet, it worked. She shuffled her feet, switching the hand she pointed at him as if shoving her timid demeanour deep down.

''You don’t get to come back here and tell _me_ what to do.''

Her voice was low as she proceeded to keep him from answering. Julia stuck her other hand into her coat pocket pulling out her ACME pen, preparing her thumb to click it on. Chase felt his cheeks go red. He couldn’t let her beam Chief into this situation. He wasn’t supposed to even be here. Ms Argent had to go and complicate things as usual.

Chase felt his hand lurch forward out of his control. He snatched the pen from her hands and ditched it over her head. It skidded down the hall and out of sight. Julia flipped her head back, then to him in disbelief.

''Wha- how dare you!''

Julia held her fists to her side and turned around to go and fetch her pen. Chase felt his heart thump, his legs a mind of their own. As fast as he could, he pushed past Julia running to the pen first. Scooping it up off the floor he held it in his hands.

''Give that to me.''

Her voice was stern. Chase had never heard her so hostile. It was incredibly intimidating on a whole new level. Not sure on how to proceed, he could feel the heat that radiated from his face incircle his body. All he knew is that if she was able to contact Chief, he would be in so much trouble.

She moved closer holding her hand out for the pen when he made an audacious move. Chase hoisted up his belt buckle and stashed the pen in his pants right on top of his groin. Julia stopped in her tracks slapping a hand to her side.

''You absolute child!''

She said completely dumbfounded. Chase held his hands up and simply shrugged in response as if unaware of the move he just played. Julia stepped up to him and held out her hand.

''Give it back to me, right now.''

He pouted his lips as his response and shrugged again. Julia’s face squished up in annoyance, her nose flaring. Her hand disappeared into her jacket and came back clutching a gas gun. She pointed it directly at his nose. Chase scoffed, feeling a part of himself not consider her a real threat for a moment. There was no way Julia would do such a thing to an innocent person or at the very least waste ACME resources in such a petty way. He put a fist to his hips and straightened his back.

''Ha! Do you really think that threat will work on me? There is no way you will-''

Julia’s eyes sharpened before he could finish his sentence and she pulled the trigger. Blue gas enveloped his sinuses causing his eyes to flutter stepping back. He blinked a few time while mumbling incoherently, falling backwards onto the concrete floor.

* * *

Chase felt the back of his head throb, taking a deep breath in. He tried his best to peel open his eyes, his vision spotty. An ache rang out from his back, his spine hunched uncomfortably. He sat up groaning, weaving a hand into his hair to hold his head. His eyes finally adjusted to his surroundings and he glanced around with a frown.

Ms Argent stood to the side, her back to him leaning a hand against a desk looking down at some papers. Somehow he had wound up in this office, on the floor. His memory instantly rushed back to him the moment he thought any harder. Julia had gassed him. Rage pooling in his belly Chase pushed his back against the wall attempting to stand.

''You, you gassed me?!''

Chase boomed his voice to her while he leaned against the wall for support. Julia slapped the page down onto the desk and turned to him, meeting his level of loudness.

''YOU, stole my communicator.''

A fire sparked to light within his body, giving him the strength to stand with conviction even if his words didn’t match.

‘''You…''

He pointed his finger at her, trying to remember some other heinous thing she had done to him. As expected, nothing came to mind and he stuttered, instantly fumbling with the fact he had nothing to spit back.

''You-''

Julia cut him off.

''I, have done _nothing_ to you but react accordingly to your childish behaviours. That appears to be something you have not grown out off.''

She crossed her arms, her pale face stricken with anger passing him a judging look. Chase jabbed his nails into his palms to try and direct his anger away from the person he was glaring at.

''You have no right to be here.''

Julia appeared to strengthen her grip around her arms as she spoke. She seemed uncomfortable with her own harshness yet continued to be candidly rigid.

''My key card says otherwise.''

Chase spat back, despite knowing that Ms Argent was correct in her statement. There was always a constant need to shield his pride from others even when futile.

''No. I mean in ACME.''

A quick pain shot through his chest nearly making it’s way to his heart. Even though he had already concluded that himself, it hurt more when it was pointed out by someone else.

He moved his eyes down, not wanting to look her in the eye shuffling his feet. It was his way of unintentionally informing her she’d hit the right spot.

''I can’t fathom why Chief would bring you back as a field agent yet force me to remain here as everyone’s clerk.''

Julia moved forward.

''I studied at Oxford for 7 years where I obtained a Master of Arts in Liberal Studies, Bioethics, Law and Political Science. Then 2 years of language study in Paris while I worked for the French government as a linguistics liaison.''

Chase cut in.

''So, you think that makes you better than everyone else?''

She quickly regained control of the conversation.

''No, it makes me better than you.''

Chase bit down on that hard mouthful of the bitter reality that was his mediocrity in the likes of Ms Argent.

''You've destroyed ACME property, consistently put yourself and others in harm’s way, jeopardised missions for the sake of your own fantasies, failed to work as a team and persistently, unnecessarily disregarded my opinion as your partner to the point of plain rudeness.''

She had raised her voice as loud as she felt was necessary, holding her opposite pointer finger to her pinky after listing the discrepancies attached his name.

Chase twisted his mouth, preparing to hiss back something most foul

''You should learn to use your own words instead of repeating whatever is said to you like _un animal dressé_. Then maybe I would respect you more.''

His words became harder to understand as his accent slurred his English. Unfortunately, Julia understood him clear as day, visibly offended at his awful statement. If she had a knife at her disposal she would have aimed it and hit him right between the eyes.

''Fine.''

Julia said plainly as she stood up straight, about to give him what he wanted.

''I think you are a self-entitled egomaniac who’s anger impulses are the reason why your life is in a constant downward spiral. You have an issue with authority and those clearly superior to you because you know that you will never be able to match them and your blatant stupidity lies not within your own, barley visible intelligence but your complete inability see the bigger picture.''

Chase kept eye contact with her to keep up the appearance that it all blew right past him. When in fact every word stuck to him as if he’d rolled himself in glue. He got what he asked for, her own opinion. They both kept quiet for a moment, Chase parting his lips a tiny bit wanting to try and contradict her declaration but decided against it.

''You are an uncaring fool. And I _was_ right about Carmen Sandiego.''

Julia turned away from him, moving herself to the wall near the door. She placed her pristine card against it, a small hatch sliding open. Pressing a button she slapped it closed, turning her gaze to him once more.

''Just so you know I was, excited, to be assigned to you at Interpol, as your partner.''

Her voice was calmer but with a newly added sense of clarity.

''Your file made you see very qualified, accomplished and experienced. Your references said that you were fair and dignified, even excellent at what you had achieved. Past work reflected that as well. You were also a lot younger than the other, ‘superiors’ yet still as decorated, which I thought was a welcomed bonus. Turns out you were nothing like you appeared to be on paper. You were a disappointment.''

Her final words were the last nail hammered into his coffin. He couldn’t understand exactly how he felt, but his stomach felt hollow. His eyes stung slightly as he blinked to coming to terms with it all, slipping his hands into his pant pockets. Chase could feel the walls around him bend in to smother him, the area ostensibly warmer than he remembered.

As if just being released from a trance he noticed Julia standing in front of him.

''Give me my pen, and get out.''

She whispered warningly.

Chase did as he was told, awkwardly moving a hand down into his pants pulling out the pen. It was warm. He went give it to her directly but she stepped to the side, pointing to the desk.

''Put it there.''

Groaning, he peeled his foot up from the ground as if rooted down. He trudged over to the desk and placed it atop, noticing his black folder and white pastry box sitting nearby. Part of him wanted to take it back, the file that is. Not because he now felt her undeserving of it but because it was clear that she deemed him inexcusable. That opinion would follow on from him and onto his work.

Above everything, he was embarrassed to existence in her presence. He had been shamed beyond all reasonable doubt and sheepishly taking back that file now would just be the pitiful cherry on top. So he left it.

He turned back making sure he kept his gaze away from hers and exited the room.

Chase kept his pace slow and casual until out of sight, then quickened the second he could. Once again he galloped up the stairs and out the door.

The outside was dark, apart from the sky still cracked with a golden glow. The freezing fresh air filled his nose as he kept up a speedy pace crunching along the gravel, hearing the door slam in the distance.

Chase sped along squashing up his shoulders to keep warm as his eyes ached. That whole ordeal went disastrously and he didn’t even get to apologies, to try and explain. It all went downhill the second she took the control away from him. He fell apart when he saw her face before he was ready. He wasn’t sure why.

_Guilt? Jealousy?_

Then insulting her and shoving the pen down his pants after throwing it didn’t help either. Entirely the opposite purpose of him being there.

He crossed the road without waiting for the signal, making it across unscathed even if he was honked at.

_I never should have bothered._

A small inclining made it’s way to the forefront of his thoughts. It made him frown. Allowing Ms Argent to exact her odious speech on how terrible he was was his apology all in itself. It was the best he could give her. Something she’d benefit more from than him sputtering out an unsatisfactory:

'I’m sorry'

Hopefully, it would smooth over any remaining emotional transgressions he may have caused her. She clearly enjoyed making him stand there and take it, Chase almost shedding a tear at her honestly. Either way, it passed the hurt he caused her, onto him. Knowing that he would now suffer inside the way she must have was the only form of apology he could really guarantee.

Chase walked the rest of the way back to his hotel slower than before. His mind went back to the last few things she said about him. How he was different than he was on paper. Chase knew he had changed, everyone does. Things around him had turned, circumstances had shifted and it was obvious his file was a little out of date. Even more so than he knew about. A lot of it had been left out or edited for a reason he didn’t like to disclose, mainly because he wasn’t allowed to.

He wasn’t going to make excuses for his behaviour that contrasted from what she had hoped. The catalyst for his change forced against him at his behest. Chase didn’t want to move to Poitiers, he didn’t want to be at Interpol as a paper-pusher nor did he want to spend those months sitting in that clinic like some headcase.

Things happened out of his control that were the result of others mistakes. She spoke as if he liked the way he was now. That he liked his faults and quarrels within. He had tried to climb back up but it was virtually impossible.

Chase had reached the door to his hotel. He’d managed to walk in his thoughts the whole way there. He pulled his key out of his pocket and went inside to the small lobby. It was empty. Plodding up the stairs he returned to his apartment, greeted by a smokey smell coming from the burnt bathtub and overflowing ashtray left uncleaned.

His phone suddenly vibrated in his back pocket as he turned on the light near the door. He knew that alarm, it was telling him it was time to retake his medication.

Thinking he could have a nice drink, he grumbled at his misfortune and went to the kitchenette. He already had a cup waiting, his bottle of pills sitting next to it at the tiny sink. He’d been so obedient with these things for a lot longer than he thought he would be. They were supposed to help, so he didn’t question it, until right now.

Since he started them 3 years ago they had at first helped a great deal. He was assured they were a temporary thing, 2-3 months or more if needed but it dragged on. After half a year they gave him headaches. Then, ruined his appetite and sleep at the same time. Soon his undesirable moods were heightened and his patience forever thinned. He was already quite a fiery-tempered individual but now everything and anything irritated him.

Chase was supposed to go back to his therapist once his 8-month prescription allowance expired or when he decided to stop taking them after 4 regimented months. It was apart of the deal he struck to forgo an hour-long therapist appointment twice a week. He never did either of those things. Instead, he assumed he’d quit when they’d stop allowing him to repeat his prescription. That was something _they_ never did.

So he considered that as long as they allowed him to renew it, he needed him. Their way of telling him he was still dependant on something to ease his thought. He had not questioned taking them in a long time.

Chase held the white bottle in his fingers, twisting it to the side to see his name and a large **Zoloft** printed on the sticker. He could hear them rattling around in there. This is probably what did it. What made him so 'different' to what was on paper. The cause for them and the result of them. They had helped him so much at the beginning, now they were a hindrance. It was his fault to be sure, such medication was only to be taken for short periods due to his potency and range of side effects. Chase had gulped one down once a day for 3 and a half years now.

He tightened his grip around the bottle and moved away from the sink. He went into the bathroom and flicked on the fluorescent light. The bath looked ghastly. The wall behind it no better. They were both blackened and ashy, the tub even warped slightly.

Ignoring it, he focused on the toilet which already had the seat up, of course. He popped open the lid and allowed the tablets to trickle out, sploshing into the toilet water. Chase pressed down the flusher, watching the toilet wash them away. The water swirled around before returning to a tranquil state, the toilet hissing in the background. He placed the empty bottle on the tank. That was where it would live from now on.

Finally, he could drink without restriction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OOP. Hope you all enjoyed it! Please feel free to leave a comment and a kudos for all those new readers. Chapter 7 is on the way. I'd also like to thank @Ciialina and @Seductively-eats-a-bagel for always being massive supporters. I really appreciate it you two. <3


	7. Contractual Obligations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. I wanted the dialogue to be exactly how I wanted, so it took a while with all the tweaking I did. Hopefully, it was worth it. Once again, thank you all so much for the support and all the new kudos! It's great to know that you are all enjoying it!

### Chapter 7 - Contractual Obligations

The wonky ceiling fan clicked as it maintained its cycle, weakly pushing the same air it had for hours down onto his back. He had turned it on by accident and couldn’t switch it back off. After the first hour or two, the insistent tick it produced made him want to dive headfirst out the window. Several hours went by and the constant noise managed to morph nicely into the ‘desolate bachelor pad’ atmosphere he’d cultivated. At one point, it stopped, the air standing quiet. At first, he was overjoyed but quickly fell prey to the quietness, missing it slightly, before it started back up again immediately. In annoyance for it leaving, then daring to return, he angrily ditched his pillow up at it in anger. The projectile caused the blades to wobbly about, just making the click even louder.

His eyes felt sore even the one forcibly closed, shoved into the pillow, his back sharing the same pain. Chase would continue to blame his lack of sleep on the noisy fan. Alas, the unwarranted white noise was but one of many reasons why he couldn’t muster up a decent slumber.

Chase stretched his fingers out underneath the pillow he had his cheek pushed into. He tensed his shoulders into his neck wanting to rid himself of some stiffness. The early morning light seeped from behind the curtain hung over the single-pane window. Its grey glow brightening up the room. Everything in the room smelled as if it had been dipped in cigarette ash, including the bed linen. Something that was his own doing after unintentionally using the space as his personal tobacco hot box. The smoke still hung in the air, wanting to crack open the single window to aerate the area. Unfortunately, it was barred shut. A reminder on exactly where he stood within society.

He had tried his best to not care, ‘relax’, as it were. This was something he was not exactly familiar within it’s fullest form. Sure, he had moments of laziness but he was not ever in a state where he wasn’t working or occupied in one way or another. It made his empty stomach flip thinking about the likelihood of a now fruitless life devoid of all real meaning and purpose. Even when he was made paper-pusher at Interpol, he at least had the drive to continue investigating the Carmen case on his own volition. But now. Well, his spirit was a little shot.

An old-style rotary ringtone shocked him into consciousness, spending a wave of heat throughout his body. His skin quickly turned cold thanks to his bareback constantly belted by the ceiling fan’s cool breeze. His eyes felt like they had been ripped open, as another ring cycle bleated out from the object near his bed.

Chase sat up, forcing his hands into the mattress. The hotel room’s phone sent out another wave of sound. He lowered himself back down and onto his belly relaxing his chin into the pillow, as if not believing that the wired phone truly beckoned his answer. Staring at the phone he contemplated answering it. There was no reason for it to be ringing.

Reaching out a hand instinctively, he picked up the phone, really just wanting the unremitting ringing to subside. Keeping himself huddled in the bed as protection, he pressed the cold receiver to his ear. He waited a moment before muttering into the speaker.

‘'Hello?'’

The other line remained silent for a split second before a clear voice broke through the quiet.

‘'Agent Devineaux, This is Agent Argent.’'

Her voice was stern, yet oddly gentle.

Chase shot up sitting on his knees, the short cord yanking the phone’s base off the bedside table clattering it towards the floor. The handset was ripped from his hand, Chase rolling down to the floor to meet it bringing the sheet with him. The wire that kept it connected to the wall saved it from destruction, the base smacking against the night table as he clamoured to the handset. He pressed it back to his ear with both hands, heart thumping in his ear. Chase cleared his throat trying to appear well composed at 6.23 in the morning.

‘'Yes?'’

He answered her enquiry after an awkwardly long pause, hoping that she didn’t hear the small catastrophe that preceded.

She seemed to wait a moment, confirming his suspicion that she did hear the commotion. A deep blush of embarrassment coloured his cheeks pink while forcing his eyes shut.

''Be at Bakesmiths Cafe, 65 Whiteladies Road, at exactly 8.45 am'’

Chase felt his mind fumble after being active for more than 48 straight. The opposite side of the conversation went silent, indicating to him that he needed to answer back.

He sought to muster up a response, only coming up with a soft muttering of an incoherent ‘okay’ but was cut off.

''I will meet you there.'’

The call ended before he could confirm his involvement in this impromptu meeting. He was left listening to the soft beeps that echoed out from the receiver, sitting ungracefully on the floor. Chase pushed the entire phone back up onto the bedside table, clumsily pressing the handset back into its holder. As he did so, the thick parcel of cocaine swaddled in the red hoodie tumbled to the ground. Its contents splattered out all over the carpet as it completely unwrapped.

Chase closed his eyes, pressing his thumb and finger into his eyelids pretending that everything was okay, that he wasn’t moments away from a mental break.

* * *

It was a busy time for a small cafe at 8.40 in the morning. The place was quaint, tight yet comfortingly airy. He still felt crowded and uneasy despite sitting himself right at the back in the darkest corner. Which was still brighter than he had liked.

Chase carefully squeezed the hot mug of coffee in his hands. He kept moving his fingers around it, trying to warm his skin evenly, knuckles red from the cold. He was freezing. Chase only had two shirts, deciding to wear them both along with his ACME suit jacket. His red sneakers were worth the astonishingly low price he had paid for them and the expensive dress pants he spitefully purchased was no help against the chilly morning air.

He was incredibly apprehensive about what was to transpire in-

Chase tapped his phone he had placed on the table, it lighting up to display the time.

8.43 am

Two minutes. His mind forced his muscles to contract, shifting up, anxiously squirming in his seat. He didn’t want to be here in any shape and form, nor did he desire to disappoint her further. Not showing up was cowardly and showing up was equally uncomfortable. He had no idea why he had been summoned here with such little information. But it wasn’t like he had anything better to do. So there was no excuse to not show up, despite being criminally antisocial.

His eyes shifted away from his mug and over to the one that awaited Julia slouching in his seat. He took a stab at what he thought she’d like. It was a vanilla latte. It sure smelt nice. Something he thought he remembered smelling wafting from her direction at some point in time. The steam from its milky froth puffed up into the air when a blurred person sat down behind it.

Quickly averting his gaze from the cup, he tilted his head up to see Julia. She was dressed casually in a deep red turtleneck sweater and a light tan trench coat with overly large lapels. Chase sat up straight, Julia placing the black file down on the table between them. She adjusted it so it was perfectly centred, her black gloves softly squeaking as she did so. Tucking her hands back under the table she looked down at the mug set in front of her, pretending to not see it and looked back up at him.

‘'Devineaux.’'

She affirmed, looking somewhat unsettled herself. Chase sat up as tall as he could to take a breath in, moving his hands away from his half-empty cup. She didn’t call him Agent or Inspector, not even monsieur Devineaux. Just Devineaux.

'‘Ms Argent.’'

Chase mumbled out a hushed response acting as confident as he could. Julia squared her shoulders taking a deep breath herself moving her hands back up to the table, resting her gloved fingers on the edge.

''Thank you for coming.’'

She said as if forced to but still with a hint of beleaguered kindness in her voice. Julia seemed incapable of being fully cold to someone even when they may have deserved it. Chase watched as she pulled off her gloves as if wasting time. It just made him more confused and uncomfortable. Witnessing her clothed in what seemed to be her ‘casual’ attire, in public, was far too personal for him to handle even on a good day. Julia placed the gloves out of sight onto her lap, then placed a finger on the black file. She slowly pushed it over in his direction, stopping just as it hit his mug.

''You left this behind the other day.’'

Chase looked down at it, it’s cardboard corners now sporting a new look of slight wear, indicating it had been opened many times.

''Along with an eclair.'’

Her tone suddenly shifted from stern to a little more upbeat, clearly confused as to why he left a sweet there. Inadvertently, he had sort of left it for her as well. After downing three one after another, he didn’t feel like a fourth.

Chase eyed her hand that had pushed the file back to him, imperceptibly furrowing his brows. Her small hand was trying to use its innocence to deflect the fact that she was refusing his offering of poorly handled reconciliation. He didn’t want it back. It was for her. For her to keep. Slightly offended that she felt the need to return his undisclosed gift, he lifted his hand and pushed it back towards her. Feeling as if she was mocking him in a way, a small burn of hurt surging in his stomach.

''It was intended for you, to keep.'’

His voice stronger this time around, as if trying to display the impertinence in her actions.

She seemed taken aback, moving her other hand to press the arch of her glasses up the bridge of her nose.

''I just thought, you would want your notes back.’'

Julia tentatively moved the hand away that pressed down on the file, lightly brushing the cup set in front of her. She used this chance of contact, to delicately yet awkwardly move it to the side. Confirming that this already wasn’t going well with the refusal of his second, no, third gift within 24 hours. He wasn’t surprised, but still felt a heavy mass drop deep in his hollow stomach. He swallowed dryly as he contemplated up and leaving right then and there.

‘'Considering they were surprisingly quite, thorough.'’

It seemed as if it pained her to compliment him, yet no one would ever think such a manner was even within Julia’s capabilities.

‘'I did not think you were capable of such.'’

Chase flashed his eyes up and into hers despite wanting to no longer continue the frivolous conversation. She shifted ever so slightly in her seat, triumphantly smirking after the successful jeering dig. She was proud of herself, yet it was clear to him that she must have practised that line in the mirror. Her victory smile broke through her facade.

Chewing on the inside of his lip, he decided to let her have this one. It was a small piece of his never-ending attempt at reconciliation that Julia could not refuse so effortlessly.

An awkward silence took hold between them, background noise bumbling on around them as if ignoring their stale meeting. Chase at that moment had clocked out mentally, deciding to finish his coffee and leave. While Julia remained visibly confident, no doubt after happily landing that devastating blow against him.

Chase could feel her attempting to gain direct eye contact from his peripheral vision. She opened her mouth slightly, before closing it. Looking down, she dug her hand into her coat pulling out a small laminated piece of paper. She flapped it out and faced it down, Chase unable to see the side that was printed on. Julia adjusted her sleeves back a bit from the elbows and placed her forearms across it.

‘'Why did you target ACME, in your notes. And not Carmen Sandiego?'’

Her questions made him feel as if he was shoved atop a podium with a spotlight pointed directly at him. It wasn’t a question he expected but somehow he kind of felt it coming. Julia was aware of what he thought of the individual in question.

‘'I would have if there was anything there on the matter.'’

Chase put plainly, causing Julia frown, moving her hand to the plastic sheet close to her.

‘'Seems Chief believes her presence is no longer a pertinent threat.'’

Julia sat up straight.

‘'Carmen Sandiego was never a **threat**.'’

She commented sternly back. Chase scoffed in disagreement deciding to give her the eye contact she seemed to crave.

‘'She hacked into ACME, did she not?'’

He retorted back just as sternly.

‘'Yes, but-'’

‘'But what? What excuse can you give for her felony.'’

Chase cut her off harshly. Like he had witnessed the evening before, Julia screwed up her nose twisting her lips into a scowl.

‘'I am not here to waste my time with your dramatic hostility.'’

Julia shifted her chair out to stand when Chase’s response stopped her.

‘'Ha! My _dramatic hostility_ being your inability to recognise that I’m right.'’

He leaned forward trying to prove his point. Her naive ignorance of Carmen’s constant blatant criminal activity, especially in the light of recent events, boiled the blood that pooled in his temple.

Julia placed a hand on the plastic card as if to relinquish whatever it’s initial purpose may have been.

‘'Seems I’ve wasted my time thinking that this-'’

Julia pressed a finger forcibly onto the file, sliding it back over to Chase once and for all.

''Meant you were capable of greater, cognizant thoughts. I don’t know why I expected more from an incompetent bigot.'’

Her strident comments against his moral code fumed him. Her confidence in his apparent ineptitude made him prepare for a worded battle.

‘'You say that as if you’re not a bigot yourself. Your, ‘opinions’ have no physical evidence and are the result of circumstantial situations and romanticisation of a criminal due to your naivety. You are no more _right_ than **you** think _I_ am.'’

Julia shuffled back into her seat fully as if accepting the impending verbal assault war that would ensue.

‘'This, evidence you desire was abundantly present the moment Chief let you go and even before, if you bothered to even look for it. ACME worked _with_ Miss Carmen Sandiego. Why can’t you accept the fact that she is not the enemy you want her to be?'’

Chase quickly frowned at this new information he was just enlightened with. He was not told that Carmen Sandiego had joined their proverbial ranks. They had barely been able to gain face with her, let alone recruit her in a professional sense. Chief had left that little juicy nugget of information out when he was let back in.

Taking advantage of Chase failing to give his own two cents on the matter, she struck again.

‘'I pity whoever’s been forced to be partnered with you. They must be suffering under your demoralising attitude.'’

Her words hit him harder than he thought they would, forcing him to rethink his rebuttal. Just as he went to open his mouth to bark back, an employee of the coffee shop materialised beside their table. Chase clamped his mouth shut sitting stiff, Julia mirroring his action with an equal sense of embarrassment.

The server whipped a cloth over the table next to theirs as they sat in quiet unison, pausing their quarrel in front of this innocent bystander, wanting to keep it private. They shared moments of sustained eye contact, the brief instance feeling like it would last for eternity. Chase groaned uncomfortably when the server turned to him.

‘'If you’re finished I can take that for you?'’

The worker asked politely, already holding a plate and cup.

Chase softened his grip around the mug, feeling his skin peel off the ceramic. He hadn’t noticed how tightly he’d been holding it. Adding it to their collection, the server gave the spot where the mug sat a quick wipe. As if frightened they would snatch it away too, Chase scooped up the black file and phone that lay, out in the open into his arms. The waiter took advantage of the space and gave the spot a quick polish over too before swiftly moving on.

He returned his attention to Julia who gazed down at the full mug of coffee near her that was left behind. Chase tried to remember where they were up to before the disturbance but it was clear to see that the enmity had been snubbed out thanks to the interruption.

_They must be **suffering** under your demoralising attitude_

That was the last thing he could recall.

Chase slid the file back onto the clean table as well as his phone, accidentally turning on the screen. It was now 9 a.m. Julia collected back the paper she had set down, signalling that she was done when he felt forced to ask a question.

‘'I made you suffer?'’

He asked quietly. She may have been just embellishing her words a little, but after her previous statements of him being rude, childish, egotistic, self-entitled, impulsive, uncaring, blind, idiotic, unworthy and most painfully, a disappointment. He thought that maybe there could be some truth in it.

Julia fidgetted, placing her interlocked hands on the table.

‘'Well, you didn’t make it easy.'’

A bad taste materialised on his tongue at her polite way of saying; ‘Yes, you were an arse’.

He was aware that their partnership didn't leave her overjoyed with sweet memories, but he wasn’t privy to the notion that he could have possibly caused her to suffer from his, _sourness_.

A hard lump in his throat forced him to try and clear it, knowing full well this was the opportune time to actually cough out a genuine apology.

‘'I, apologise, for my, various transgressions that caused you, discomfort previously, and now.'’

Chase dressed it up as fancy as he could as if to mask what he was trying to say. She looked away causing Chase’s brain to force his mouth to do it again, simpler and to the point.

‘'I’m sorry.'’

He said again, meaning it too. Julia gave him a moment of positive eye contact which made him feel like he should continue.

‘'Yesterday afternoon, I was there to, formally apologise and the file was intended for you as part of that.'’

Chase felt sickly unnerved with how candid he had just been. Although mentally and physically nauseous to him, it appeared to please Julia.

‘'Why now?'’

Julia questioned to his immediate peril. Chase decided not to divulge in his real reasons as to why he had decided to make patchy amends, simply shrugging to her dismay. Informing her that his destiny was to be live bait and an impending doom being the only reason he decided to be nice wouldn’t help anyone. It also warranted too many questions he didn’t desire to answer at this point. She sighed, dissatisfied with his half-assed answer and continued.

‘I assume Chief brought you back to catch Carmen Sandiego?’

Chase felt he should answer this one so he could ask his own.

‘'Yes.'’

He lied.

Julia crossed her brows.

‘'Then why would she send you here? All agents on that movement are all stationed in Guatemala where she was last seen?'’

Chase pursed his lips to this delightful turn of events, not having a good answer that would keep his head above water. Julia seemed to quickly gather that Chase had produced a shoddy illusion that he was barely able kept up. She gave him a disheartened look, as one does when gutted to the core. He felt as if she knew, but she didn’t. She hadn’t read the email and he deleted it after his small meltdown, out of shame. He did print a copy, of course, thinking of including it in the file. But decided against it.

He shrugged again in response to her inquiry taking his turn in the line of questioning.

‘'ACME worked, _with_ , Carmen Sandiego?'’

Julia tilted her head to the side, slipping a hand to her rub behind her ear as if reliving a stressful memory.

‘'Briefly. Unfortunately.'’

Chase wanted to pry further but after failing to give any sort of decent answer to her questions, he felt it inappropriate. Luckily, she felt like sharing all on her own as if she had been just waiting to spill the beans.

‘'Chief hardly gave Miss Sandiego a chance to work with us. She just wanted her capture.'’

Moving a hand up she silently pressed against the coffee bought for her, twisting the base around so she could touch the handle.

‘'I stuck my neck out and got to meet her in person, to gain her trust. I managed to convince Chief to work with her instead. I pushed for it. But that only lasted temporarily.'’

Her voice was softly tempered as she looked down at the drink.

‘'If Chief could have only been more patient.'’

Julia took a gentle sip.

‘'And not put Carmen Sandigo’s life in jeopardy to prove a point. There could have been room for earned trust, not forced. And maybe if I had been more persistent, it could have gone better.'’

She placed the cup back down gently and smiled oddly. Tapping the side of the ceramic with her nail she looked up at Chase who wore a plain gaze, trying to seem well put together with all the new details.

‘'Good guess.'’

Chase felt a wave of relief that he made a decent choice on the coffee flavour, cool the fire pit simmering atop his frontal lobe. The fact she unwittingly accepted his gift gave him the confidence to pry further, for he was genuinely intrigued by the events he missed.

‘'How did Sandiego, even get _in_.'’

That was the main point he was confused about. ACME was positively the most secure network of criminal and logistical informational sources that someone randomly ‘hacking’ was considered impossible. It was even bragged about.

Julia squashed her lips together as if nervous, pushing her glasses back up her nose.

‘'Chief turned up one day, in _person_ , with a hard drive from Carmen Sandiego. Supposedly it was one taken from VILE. A peace offering from her team to ours.'’

Julia sighed.

‘'We plugged it in, and that’s how.'’

He gave a small nod to indicate he was listening.

‘'Carmen Sandiego used an Alias, White Hat, and locked us out of the network. She took copies of thousands of important and secret documents until the whole server was shut down and restarted.'’

Chase watched as she seemed to shrink in on herself.

‘'After everything was cleaned up, Chief stationed me here to provide logistical aid for on-field agents.'’

The strangest thing out of this all was the blame she seemed to attach to herself. She needn’t say it, he could very easily sense it. He himself a culprit of such, an expert in prolonged second-hand guilt for other actions, frowning in response.

‘'So, she benched you for her mistake in judgment?'’

Chase scoffed leaning back in his chair causing it to creak. He recognised the ‘pass the blame’ pattern in his Chief's leadership, a concept he had been a victim too and used himself.

‘'Wasn’t she the one who brought in the device that got ACME hacked?'’

Julia sat up somewhat.

‘'Technically it’s her fault. I mean, _she could have just ignored you more_.'’

Julia shot him a justifiably offended look. Chase cleared his throat thinking of what to say to rectify the situation but she had already moved on. It seemed best that he just continued to have minimal input in the conversation.

‘'I’m not an agent anymore. I was transferred to administration.'’

She said woefully.

‘'Chief said I needed to, ‘cool my heels’ back ‘home’ until it all settles down.'’

Julia laughed slightly and stared at him intensely.

‘'I’m not even from Bristol, I’m from _London_.'’

She turned her intense gaze away and down at her cup swirling it a little.

‘'Mayfair…'’

Julia mumbled as if being sent here was a major transgression upon her character. Silence returned between them before Julia made her point.

‘'I still firmly believe Carmen Sandiego is not as she seems. She was not given a fair chance to explain herself. Her motivation. And it’s not like Chief was ever fully facilitative to a harmonious union.'’

Chase felt a small voice within himself groan at the notion but decided this time to ignore it.

‘'She was actively willing to help ACME, work with ACME. Why would a criminal earnestly work with an organisation directly tasked with taking such people down? It doesn’t make sense.'’

Julia spoke with a passionate conviction. To try something new he decided to dignify her options with simple, adequate recognition.

‘'Everything she ‘stole’, was given back. Money returned or donated all without injury to innocence. Selfless acts masqueraded as grand crimes.'’

For once, Chase had no qualms with what she said. For indeed it was true, everything stolen was returned. But he didn't agree that it was all done with noble intentions.

‘'Miss Sandiego is also an enemy of VILE. I just, don’t know why or what her connection is with them.'’

Julia moved her hand to her lap and placed the plastic-covered paper back onto the table, this time writing side up. Chase instinctively tried to peek over at it but she quickly moved her forearms to cover it.

''Look, I made you meet me here because I’m not a field agent anymore and I want to be. I’m sick of sitting around acting as if I agree with ACME, Chief, and their choices. When I don’t.'’

Julia suddenly stretched her hand over to the black file, standing a little to reach it. She slid it over and opened it up sliding out a few papers, rifling through them. After a moment she stopped flicking through and settled upon a set of stapled forms, separating it from the rest placing it down in front of him. Pointing at a particular sticky note he had placed atop a compilation of various expense reports, she finished her statement.

‘'And it seems you don’t either.'’

Chase read the note to himself.

> _Constant, recurring deposits from foreign aliases. An obvious sign of outsider trading that tampers with ACME integrity as an independent, neutral entity. Chief signature of approval on all collaterals, **concerning**_

He remembered writing that, and the small flurry of disappointment he felt in the back of his mind. Chief wasn’t exactly hiding the possibly unsavoury dealings in a normal sense but she wasn’t making it easy to find. It took Chase an obsessive episode that lasted the good part of 24 hours to dig it all up and compile it.

Julia looked at him urgingly, as if hoping he would initiate the next part of the conversation on his own fruition. He didn’t exactly fully understand what she was getting at, the connection she was trying to make. Sure, they both were a little sore from ACME giving them the cold shoulder, kicking them both to the curb.

She huffed impatiently.

‘'Chief clearly, esteems, you enough to reinstate you as an agent. All I need is for you to request for me, to be your partner, so I can be an agent again.'’

Chase had to stop himself from cracking an ironic smirk and scoff when she said Chief ‘esteemed him’. If Julia read her emails once and a while she’d be aware that Chief respects Carmen Sandiego as a villain more than him as a viable asset.

‘'It’s the least you can do.'’

Her eyes seemed to plead with him, using their innocent roundness warped by her glasses to guilt him into submission. He had no real quarrels with denying her request. Apart from the fact, his ‘agent-ness’ was merely a facade concocted by Chief for fresh VILE bait. Scooping her all up into this mess didn’t seem fair, especially without her knowledge of his real worth to ACME.

Chase shifted in his seat at the thought that popped into his mind. He knew it best to inform her of his unhelpfulness in her plight to be an agent again. Instead, he dodged the notion for a moment longer.

‘'What’s in it for you?'’

Sitting back with a bewildered expression, Julia diverted her gave. He thought it was maybe because she half expected him to demand ‘what’s in it for me?’, not asking what she wanted out of all of this.

‘'I told you, to be an agent again.'’

Julia answered before continuing with an offended tone.

‘'Look, if you don’t want to help me then-'’

Chase cut her off by holding up a hand and squeezing his eyes shut. Quickly breaking her spirally tangent in its place. Speaking through gritted teeth, his thin patience frayed.

‘'No, I never-'’

He stopped his train of thought before it had a chance to begin, pressing his thumb and forefinger into his temple huffing. A headache was destined to be the end of his day and a big one at that. He was accustomed to them on the regular thanks to the added supplements he _used_ to take but this one felt different from what he was used to. It hurt his stomach, not only his head.

‘'This is the first _real_ day off I’ve had in months. I had to pretend I was sick to meet you here.'’

Her voice was back to a soft calmness, it’s mellow tone making Chase feel like it was safe to look at her.

‘'I didn’t mind it before, when I was an agent, because I loved what I did. I don’t like the role I play within ACME now. I don’t want to just, do nothing.'’

She seemed visibly sad.

‘'Chief is wrong. Carmen Sandiego isn’t the enemy, and I want to prove that. And vice versa.'’

Chase tried looking over at the paper Julia had beneath her hands. Not once did she say that she wanted to stop VILE. All her desires were mildly selfish. He admired that

‘'So, you want to prove _Chief_ wrong? And be ultimately _right_?'’

Julia sat up straight.

‘'I want peace between both parties and to stop VILE.'’

She promptly assured him, slotting in how she did wish for VILEs destruction as if reading his thoughts.

He knew from experience that no one did anything inherently ‘good’ out of the pure kindness in their heart. Even if a good deed is done, the one who did the good deed always has a motive for doing so. Whether it be financial gain, a certain status and recognition or simply for self-gratification. Maybe even a way of revenge in some twisted form. Either way, he knew that selfishness was something everyone is born with and no one, not Chief, Carmen Sandiego or even Julia were exempt from.

Chase clicked his tongue onto the roof of his mouth raising his brows.

‘' _Sure_ '’

He whispered, Julia hearing but choosing to ignore his snide comment moving on.

‘'You helping me in this matter will fully exonerate you from any lingering transgressions against me.'’

Julia said that as it was the deal of a lifetime for him.

‘'We can start fresh, as partners.'’

She said this with a sincere smile while finally sliding the paper she held over to his fingertips.

‘'On certain conditions of course.'’

Chase gandered down at the laminated sheet of paper beneath him, it resembling a bullet point list. He read it:

  * Julia Argent is the leading agent.



Immediately he stopped at the first point.

‘'No.'’

He said plainly.

‘'You were ‘in charge’ the first time, and look how that turned out.'’

Julia pointed out, knowing exactly what she was referring to. Not wanting to relent the natural bossy essence he possessed, he huffed relinquishing his claim to the throne of the top agent to her. He considered it to be for the best anyway, as she was the one who wanted this all so bad. He was just along for the ride at this point.

He read on.

  * Chase Devineaux will not drive any vehicles unless given express permission from Julia Argent.



‘' **NO**.'’

Chase slapped his hand on the table in defiance. No one was worthy of dictating whether he was allowed to drive or not. He was not a child, he didn’t need permission.

‘'I’m not having you destroy another ACME vehicle or any other car for that matter on one of your wild, fast and furious pursuits.'’

He ground his teeth grumbling to himself.

‘'Chief won’t take kindly to a third drowned car.’'

She had a point. He was surprised that she hadn’t made him pay for it already. Although, he did notice the lack of wage funds transported into his account after the events. Worried about what he would see next on the list when he went on.

  * No unnecessary arguing, yelling or rudeness.
  * No irrational risk-taking or impulsive behaviours/actions



Chase breathed loudly, tapping his finger at the fourth point.

''I do not do such a thing, nor can I control that. Remove it.''

Julia said not a word and snaked her finger down to tap the fifth point:

  * Chase Devineaux can not amend or remove any items on this list unless approved by Julia Argent.



Embarrassed, he sighed, feeling that the list was extremely demeaning.

They sat in a quiet state for a moment. Mostly because Chase didn’t want to dignify the offence of Julia trying to control him out in the open.

''I can’t afford to have this go poorly and I want you on the same page this time.’'

She said smoothly.

‘'Partners?’'

Julia stuck out a hand to him for him to take, symbolising his acceptance of their partnership and the contract.

Chase looked back down at the list that had been typed up and laminated with care. He was basically accepting the loss of his professional freedom based upon an assumption Julia had made about his job title. There was a very good chance that the help she needed from him wasn’t obtainable and he didn’t want to be her intern. But what made his hand reach out to grasp hers was the guilt-ridden void that plagued the space where his heart sometimes dared to lurk. Her overall trustful smile seemed to shine through into that void just a little bit, giving his heart a moment to find it’s way back into place.

Julia wanted to be right, to have her prolonged moment in the sun. All she wanted was a good second chance to rectify her image. Chase longed for that chance too, no one daring to extend out that helping hand to him. He thought he may as well pass that opportunity for redemption he wasn’t afforded to another, to her. Julia was more than deserving.

Wrapping his fingers around her palm he shook it and nodded, inching out a forced smile. She smiled back with a nod too, breaking the shake.

Now all he had to do was break the news that he was more of a tool than an agent. Standing promptly, he knew what he needed to do. He had to show her that email.

Gathering up his belongings, making sure to miss the list, he moved away from the table.

‘'Follow me.'’

He barked over his shoulder, noticing that she didn’t move. Stoping in his tracts, he turned back to see Julia still sitting proudly at the table. As if knowing exactly what she was waiting for he sheepishly moved back and tried again.

‘'Ms Argent, please follow me.’'

Chase repeated in a nicer tone than before.

She stood, lifting the contract he purposefully left behind and gently handing it to him. Begrudgingly, he took it with a fake smile shoving it into his jacket.

He waited for her to gather her items then proceeded to depart. Chase held the door open for Julia to exit the cafe first, attempting to be a gentleman in practice rather than theory for once, meeting the icy morning air that awaited them right outside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank for reading! Hit me up with that feedback and kudos! Chapter 8 is underway <3.


	8. A Front Row Seat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Just a quick note about what is in this chapter:** I mention the word and the act of vomiting in the middle but mainly towards the end of this chapter. In case anyone is easily affected by these words, do note that they are included in this chapter. But they aren't in too much detail.
> 
> ANYWAY. I'd like to once again thank everyone for the support I've received on multiple platforms. It means a lot to me that you are all enjoying reading this as much as I am enjoying writing it.

### Chapter 8 - A Front Row Seat

The air was as icy as the stale ambience that instantly materialised between them when they first became partners. Their breaths turned to mist with the chill morning sky, both tensing their shoulders in response.

Chase didn’t want to waste time and cleared his throat fluffing his jacket, shoving his hands deep into his pant pockets. It was his way of saying ‘follow me’ without having to say it. Before he could walk off, assuming Julia would tail behind, he felt a tugging on his inner elbow.

''Where are we going?''

She insisted. He turned around to meet her persistent gaze. He shrugged a little, giving her a sign that he wanted her to regress the grasp around his arm. Relenting her impromptu hold, Julia returned herself to a huddled position.

''To my hotel. I, I have to show you something.''

Chase answered hesitantly trailing off at the end.

Julia looked up at him oddly if he had said something nefarious. Ignoring it he tried to move away down the street when she spoke up again.

''Do you _honestly_ believe that I’m going to willingly follow you after that ambiguous answer you just gave me?''

He stopped, squeezing his eyes shut impatiently. Turning back, he saw her standing in place with crossed arms and a displeased look. Grumbling for what would be the hundredth time today, forcing his cold fingers through his hair.

''No matter what response I give you there is no way it will suffice. So please, just, follow me.''

Chase seethingly spoke back. Unfazed by the anger hiding behind his eyes Julia pouted her lips as if agreeing with what he just said. She relaxed her shoulders, moving a gloved hand to her coat pocket pulling out a set of car keys. He recognised that familiar little black gadget.

''You _drove_ here?''

He asked in place of wanting to ask how she got an ACME car and he didn’t. Of course, he knew why.

Julia looked up at him and frowned, a face she was making a regular occurrence.

''You _didn’t?_ ''

She asked as if concerned.

Chase squared his shoulders.

''I, I like to walk.''

He sputtered out defensively. Julia deepened her frown doubtingly, questioning him openly with just a look as if she knew him enough to know that wasn’t possibly true. Offended and trying to seem less of a mess, he unknowingly added fuel to the embarrassment fire that was how Julia saw him.

''Huh! There are many things you do not know about me, Ms Argent.''

He said proudly as if this was going somewhere important.

''Such as-''

Flaring his nostrils, he tried to think of something quick.

''I like cats… And Abba''

He added, pointing a finger in her direction as if that meant he won somehow.

Julia looked down at the sidewalk fiddling with her keys. A small awkward smile caused her lips to warp and brows to raise.

''Your right, I didn’t know that.''

Julia pointed right back at him mockingly, her way of saying:

_'enjoy that small victory, I can see you need it'._

Instantly regretting that entire exchange, Chase could feel his cheeks flush a light rosy pink. Meanwhile, Julia twisted around nonchalantly, thankfully not bearing witness to his visible display of embarrassment.

'' **I** , can drive us there.''

She said with a clear emphasis on the I, glancing back to him.

Chase really didn’t want to say yes or no for that matter. He didn’t want to walk because it was cold and his shoes pinched his feet. But he didn’t want to be her passenger after stating that he loved walking and to back down off his little soapbox.

''Follow me.''

She urged politely, nodding her head for _him_ to follow instead. Expelling more air from his lungs than he needed to, he shoved his hands into his pant pockets and hunched his back in defeat.

* * *

The car ride was uncomfortable for him. That word, _uncomfortable_ , was something he felt like he was the poster boy for. Chase noticed that lately, he had been oozing such awkwardness since his firing, then the island isolation. It seemed to infect and ruin everything around him. Much like how garlic-infused foods stain one’s breath relentlessly, everyone in the vicinity utterly incapable of ignoring the pungent aroma.

The moment he sunk into the passenger seat it was as if this was the first time Julia actually looked at him. While clicking on her seatbelt he could feel her stare at his mismatched attire. He looked like a dishevelled youth going in for an interview at a supermarket. Their eyes met briefly and he witnessed just how confused her furrowed brows were. It was, embarrassing.

Julia didn’t ask for his current address, she looked it up for herself as if avoiding a conversation for the moment. She drove in silence. Just the faint hum from the car’s heater warming up the car and tires rolling down the streets.

It was odd in itself to be on this side of a car ride. He could only muster up the courage to occasionally peek at her gloved hand around the side of the wheel. Not being in control of his heading was sickening.

Chase placed a hand inside his jacket to his stomach. Though it seemed that feeling was materializing within him instead of being just a theory.

The car stopped, his neck moving forward as Julia pulled up the handbrake. Looking outside the fogged with condensation side window he swiped a finger along with the glass. Clearing his view he could see his hotel across the street. The faint click of a seatbelt being released sent a shock through his body. He widened his eyes, parting his lips. She continued making sounds as if moving to exit the vehicle.

He couldn’t let her see his room. He couldn’t let her see the cocaine, the mess, the smoke smell, the _bathroom_. Chase almost threw up in his mouth at the notion of her witnessing his life in dissolution, his debauched living state, but without the fun part. His dignity and pride were all he had left, clinging onto it just by his fingertips at this point. If he was going to divulge to her about his work arrangement, possibly bringing quite a lot of scrutiny upon him, he didn’t want to allow her any more quality material to ridicule him with.

Chase spun his head around to look directly at her while she quietly gathered her things. He clutched the shirt under his hand into his fist.

''STAY HERE.''

Chase almost screamed frantically over at her while violently unbuckling his seatbelt. Immediately, he burst out of the car slamming the door shut behind him. Breaking out into the sudden cold he bolted across the road hearing a car honk right at his side as he did. The car’s bumper hit the side of his calf lightly, Chase taking a moment to stop, slapping a hand on the bonnet. Filled with a worrying amount of different and long lost emotions all swirling around in his stomach, he shot his middle finger proudly up at the driver, causing them to honk relentlessly.

''Va te faire foutre!''

He yelled back at the driver in French, even though he knew he was in a predominantly English speaking country. He kept moving and jumped into the hotel’s lobby and up the stairs two at a time. Within seconds he was at his door, fumbling with the lock and tumbled in leaving the key stuck in the open door.

His heart thumped in his ears as he threw himself at the dining table turned work desk. He had only bothered to organise the papers he was giving away. Everything else was in piles or just scattered around. Thankfully, he had left the light on, even if it was just a bedside lamp he had repurposed.

Chase patted across each piece of paper, around his pens, through the few poorly collated binders and underneath the ‘borrowed’ laptop looking for that email. He knew he had it, somewhere. He brushed a few loose cigarette stubs onto the floor, littering across the stepped on papers that lined the carpet.

Soon he was on his knees, tapping around at the documents that lay on the floor and under the table when a voice spoke up behind him.

''Is that, _cocaine?!_ ''

Chase tried to stand but instead smacked his body into the underside of the desk, the shock wave sending a few papers and items onto the floor. Exclaiming with a muffled voice he reversed back out from under the table and stood, leaning against the side in pain.

Julia was there, ACME pen poking the splatted brick of cocaine that he left on the floor with a shocked and equally worried expression.

Against his direct orders, she had followed him into his den.

Horrified, Chase watched her eyes demand an answer from him that he didn’t want to give.

''It’s, flour.''

He lied, voice shaken.

Julia stood up completely displeased with his response.

''Why do you have this!?''

She demanded, completely ignoring his answer to the cocaine being just harmless flour. Chase hung his mouth open to retort back when he noticed her gaze shift from his and to behind him. Julia frowned harshly and started to walk at him, then promptly past. He turned around and immediately understood where she was headed.

_The bathroom._

Due to the light of the day and a small window in the bathroom, it was well lit. Events that had transpired in there before on full display to whoever dared look.

Terrified, Chase pushed himself off the table and went to grab her shoulders in an attempt to stop her from discovering what she was about to. Immediately, he stopped himself just before his fingers touched her upper arms. Retracting his hands, he feverishly coiled his fingers into a tight fist. He didn’t have the mental strength to lay a finger upon her in any circumstance, even if it was to save himself from mortality.

Both of them stood in the doorway of the bathroom, Chase slightly behind, Julia flicking on the light to properly see in full display the mess he’d made.

Julia was silent. Not even a gasp in surprise. She kept her eyes directly on the bath and wall that was blackened and destroyed.

Chase’s major height advantage meant he could see her expression along with the entire room as if a spectator in this slice of life reality TV show. He had his jaw shut tight with his nails digging deep into his palms. He knew he was pink with embarrassment.

Julia suddenly breathed in deeply and sighed, lifting her gloved fingers to her lips. That’s when he saw it. A neatly folded piece of paper sat on the edge of the sink. He remembered what it was and why it was there. It was the email.

Before he went to pass off the file to Julia he had decided right then and there not to include it, leaving it there as a result. As if staring at his tired face in the mirror for a while made him reconsider.

Knowing what he had to do, he pressed himself against the wall and shuffled past, deeper into the bathroom, trying to keep a good distance between them.

Plucking the paper off the sink’s edge he moved back, directly in front of Julia, mostly so she could no longer see the disastrous bathtub. He was completely disconcerted at how this had all gone down, especially after he demanded she remains in the car. But he had set out on a mission and he was determined to complete it.

Chase kept his eyes away from hers as he felt her take the paper from his fingers. It took Julia but a moment to read it.

''Where did you get this from?''

She questioned rightfully.

Just that question alone signalled to him that she doubted the words printed on the paper. Chase didn’t answer her inquiry and instead turned the light off in the bathroom hoping she’d get the message. She didn’t move.

''You do not intimidate me, Devineaux.''

Julia said plainly, not a hint of weakness in her voice, her scowl matching.

He didn’t wish for his impending doom to evoke pity but he at least assumed it would afford him a bit of slack from her, ‘i’m tough’ routine. He was tired in more ways than one.

''You don’t believe me?''

Chase asked defensively. He was no longer embarrassed at the state of the room around him but displeased at her response to the email. He had hoped for a little more, sympathy, considering he was laying himself all out for her to see. Work was his life, and currently, his life was in shambles and he had given Julia a front-row seat to the show.

''I just want to know where you got this from.''

Julia lifted the paper sternly as Chase frowned.

''To prove me a liar?''

He spat back. Julia huffed already fed up with his slight insolence, shaking her head slightly.

''No, to prove it credible.''

She turned around and moved out of the way looking back down at the paper as she stepped back into the living area.

He felt his hostility drip away and quickly reform into a deep welling of discomfort. So far he was not off to a good start at this whole 'fresh start' thing he was attempting.

_This isn’t going to work_

Chase thought, watching Julia glance over at what he knew was the table strewn with litter. She moved out of sight, forcing Chase to reenter the room as well, wanting to keep an eye on her movements. She had her hand on the laptop he had acquired recently looking over the papers nearby.

''Chief may have misguided views in regards to Carmen Sandiego but I do not believe that she is so, frivolous, with her employee’s wellbeing.''

Julia spoke professionally but still softly. He rubbed his hands on the sides of his legs, instinctively slipping them into his pant pockets as if to ground himself. His gaze moved away from her and down to the cocaine pile near the bed.

''Chief has always been open with her disdain for me.''

Chase spoke up truthfully, giving a reason for Chief’s choice in the role chosen for him. He wasn’t sure if her disbelief in Chief’s cruelness was because she didn’t want to consider her such a way or because she was genuinely concerned for his welfare. He confidently assumed it was the first.

Julia opened the laptop she had her hand resting upon.

''This will need to be returned promptly as I can assume you didn’t fill out the required forms to have it in your possession.''

She affirmed off-topic.

''I saw the security footage.''

Julia added while peering down at the screen as it glowed a bright blue.

Chase gulped, knowing exactly what she was referring too. He huffed lightly, feeling embarrassed again. He knew full well she saw him, _hide_ , from her. Chase watched her reach down for the chair he had left tipped over the night before and decided to beat her to it. Grabbing the sides he placed it near the table for her to sit on.

With an uncomfortable expression, Julia awkwardly sat down causing Chase to relent his grip of the chair to her. He shuffled to the side. She then went to place the printed email down on the table but hesitated when there was no room to do so. Promptly and without much consideration, Chase swiped his arm across the table clearing the spot for her. The papers that previously occupied the space, thrown to the floor. Julia hesitated again, probably in shock at his strange impulsive action.

He had no idea why he just did that but it was done.

After waiting another moment she placed the paper down on the now cleared table and took off her gloves once again.

''I must admit, you are a lot more, overzealous than I remember.''

She said softly, a comment he didn’t expect from her. Just within the brief moments that they had interacted, he could see she was no longer timid and consistently mild-mannered. Her constant remarks were covenant to that. She no longer held her tongue, at least to him.

''Your, not, doing _cocaine_. Are you?''

Julia questioned glancing over her shoulder at him. Chase bumbled, shaking his head quickly.

''What? I-, No!. I am not!''

He fumbled out unconvincingly, sounding like someone who was poorly trying to hide that they were in fact. Julia tensed her shoulders, obviously less than convinced with his answer.

''I have it, because-''

Chase decided to give her a real, honest answer.

''I found it in a dumpster. Behind a corner grocer.''

He finished.

Julia turned, glancing to her side and up at him with a sour look the moment he ended the sentence.

''You took _dumpster_ cocaine and left it open on the floor of your hotel room?''

She interrogated him, fully perplexed.

Chase scoffed placing a hand on the back of the chair she sat in.

''I did not! I kept it with me for hours before I left it here unsupervised.''

He said matter-of-factly. Julia let out a horrifying noise and widened her eyes to Chase’s surprise.

''That is **worse**!''

She said back, suddenly hanging her mouth open looking down for a moment, before back up at him positively angry.

'' **That** is what you dropped down the stairs at the ACME office. **I slipped on it!**.''

Chase forgot for a second that she had indeed seen the security footage from the evening he snuck in. He conveniently let it slip from his mind that he had dropped it in one of the worst places to spill illicit material in the world.

''Why would you even take something like that?And _how_ did you carry that around in _public_ ''

She asked more questions he felt forced to answer to save himself from scrutiny but really, this time it was best if he didn't.

‘’I needed it, for evidence. Of VILE operating out of the grocer. And, I kept it under my shirt’’

He answered truthfully. Before he knew his insignificance, he was going to use it as physical evidence of VILE dealing at the location he was told to watch. He hoped it would earn him some sort of admiration, respect.

''So you thought it wise to _steal_ cocaine from VILE?''

Julia pushed, her tone increasingly mixed with shock and anger. Chase huffed as if he knew better, leaning down so he was a little bit closer to where she was fuming from.

''I did not _steal_ it Ms Argent. I merely borrowed it to aid my cause.''

Chase spoke in a naturally condescending way, something he should know by now was a silly thing to do and always just made a situation worse.

''Which must be an early death.''

Julia spat back in response to his attitude. Chase stood up straight, offended at her overt comment as the laptop finally finished loading. It felt like their conversation had stretched on for ages but it had only been barely a minute.

Time flies when you are being insulted.

Julia adjusted her position on the chair visibly annoyed as Chase released his grip on its side. He stepped back one foot at a time, defeatedly sitting onto the edge of the bed. He was far enough away from her that he didn't seem intrusive but close enough he was still, somewhat involved.

Chase used the last of his physical strength to force his aching feet into the carpet keeping himself upright. Truthfully, he had never felt so, tired. His stomach still felt uneasy. Maybe it was because the room smelt like a dirty ashtray or because her presence here wasn’t what he had planned.

Just as he thought about the room's stench making him feel ill, Julia pulled down her sleeve, placing it under her nose. It seemed he wasn’t the only one who noticed the hot box he’d created. A flash of embarrassment added itself to the queasy feeling twisting up his gut.

''How… Why are you logged into my account?''

Julia questioned, turning back to Chase with a less than pleased expression. He had forgotten about that. He had forgotten about a lot of little things today.

Chase forced his tongue atop his teeth, feeling their blunt sharpness dig into his flesh. He had no excuse, nor did he think this needed one.

''Mine was no use. So I used yours to conduct my research.''

He responded. Julia moved her eyes down the floor for a moment then back up as if accepting his answer, if not pleased about.

''It’s how I, found the email.''

Chase added on, in a softer voice than usual. He arched his back and pressed his elbows into his thighs, laying his forearms arms across the space between his legs.

Chase had always made a point to try and stand or sit tall when speaking. Someone once made it clear to him it was the only way someone should conduct themselves when conversing. It conveyed absolute confidence in what one was saying, making them more likely to be revered, accepted. Even if what one said was not the truth or correct, as long as they spoke it with physical conviction, at least others would listen.

Julia turned back blinking, calmer than he thought she’d be at the news. Though, when they were initially partners, he would often use her account when submitting reports, on the brief occasions he would.

''I’m surprised you remembered such a thing, despite me having to write them down for you multiple times.''

She noted, beginning to tap away until suddenly stopping.

''Where are all of my emails?''

Julia turned back around, yet again with a displeased look. Chase and his memory were not in sync at the moment.

''Uh.''

He mumbled out, hazily recalling the moment he accidentally deleted all her emails. Chase had no idea how he did it but he did.

''When it said 'select all', I, thought it meant all the text in _that_ email, not all the emails.''

He said sheepishly. Julia squinted her eyes together muddled at his excuse.

''Besides, it wasn’t like you were reading them anyway.''

He said as if that justified his fortuitous action.

Julia ignored him, something she was quite good at already and picked up the print out. She pressed her fingers into the page to keep it flat, reading it over again. Chase just watched from afar as she sat up a little, allowing herself the opportunity to cross her legs and started typing once again.

The screen changed colour, to a dark grey that filled the room, causing Chase to sit up to see what was going on. Interested, he stood and moved over so he could see the screen. Julia paused for a moment and proceeded to neatly fold the paper to the line where three case report code names were.

He had a faint idea about what she was about to do. Those three other instances were cases in which 'practice' of using a person as bait for VILE were similar to his. Julia didn’t accept the email as stand-alone proof, she wanted more.

Shooting an eye to her side where Chase now loomed once again and placed it in front of her. The screen was filled with another login menu, one he hadn’t seen before.

''If the email still existed, this would be much easier.''

Julia pointed out. Chase moved his feet, changing which foot held the majority of his weight a few times, slightly rueful. She carefully clicked a few keys, both bars filling themselves with tiny asterixis until she hit enter. The screen went dark blue, before flashing white, lists of files appearing in unison all coded appropriately.

He had not seen or found this part of the database. Leaning down to see, Julia started typing into the search bar up top:

**C90**

Half a dozen folders loaded up all with different iterations of C90, Julia selecting the one with the same handle. It opened, revealing a woman's ID photo in the corner and a brief personal rundown, along with a multipage factual report. She quickly skimmed through the words scrolling down a lot faster than he could read to his dismay. For once during their work relationship, Chase was finally interested in the same thing she was looking at and he wasn’t even able to properly engage in it.

Chase turned his nose to her and huffed lightly to express his contempt in not being able to read what was on the screen. Seemingly able to sense his scorn she turned to meet his annoyed gaze, awkwardly making prolonged eye contact.

Instantly Chase shot up thoroughly uncomfortable with that longer-than-a-split second, closer than comfort exchange in glances. He stepped back and turned around sticking his hands into his pant pockets. His signature move on all occasions.

Julia let out a small delicate grumble, what he could only assume was a throat clear asking for his attention.

''C90, Analie Nakeer.''

She began. Chase kept his back to her, only turning his head slightly to her voice.

''Agent Nakeer was an agent from the official founding in 2001 to 2004. An Altercation with suspected VILE forces in 2003 lead to an involuntary dismissal for personal safety.''

Julia spoke with a dignified softness as she summarized her speed read of the document for Chase.

''After 2 weeks Agent Nakeer was reinstated after ‘administrational miscalculations’ that saw her willingly take part in an operation to use her notoriety among the VILE community to entrap pursuing forces.''

''May 18th 2004, Agent Nakeer was found unresponsive in her hotel room, later declared deceased by asphyxiation. No evidence was found to rule it anything other than a suicide due to the way she was found by local authorities.''

Chase felt his throat close up as Julia continued to give her briefing as if it was just casual news.

''ACME discloses that the lack thereof evidence to indicate that VILE or any other malicious organisation had taken part in her death, releases them from any altercations that ensue from Agents Nakeer’s death while not on official company time.''

Chase heard Julia click a few times during the pause before she finished.

''Efforts to relocate the family associated with Agent Nakeer were put into practice as well as sizable reparations paid to the family of the deceased.''

Julia concluded, keeping her voice strong till the end.

Not really feeling the best, Chase moved back over to the bed and sat carefully, attempting to quell his nauseousness. He slid a hand under his self mutilated ACME coat and squeezed his stomach through his layered shirts. The same sick feeling had returned, swirling around his gut as if tormenting him. He wasn’t sure if it was in light of the news of his more concrete demise or because he hadn’t eaten solid food in 3 days.

Chase felt his mouth fill with saliva, hoping it was just the result of him thinking about food and not because he was about to vomit. His eyes stung, closing them shut as they began to water. Each part of his eye felt like it was rolling in a different direction.

The woman had been clearly murdered by VILE when taking part in this bait tactic.

''C004, Vernon Kalenof.''

Julia continued unaware of the ailing Devineaux behind her.

''Agent Kalenof was employed as a senior agent from founding in 2001 to 2008.''

Chase pulled off his coat as his body started warming at an unnatural rate, still half-listening to Julia as she went explaining each case much like his.

''Agent Kalenof was captured after willingly exposing his identity to public sources as well as on the online black marketplace after a lack in VILE activity over an expanse of an unnatural amount of time.''

''The controlled kidnapping was an initial success thanks to an update in ACME’s available monitoring technology that led to his prompt rescue. Technical equipment, physical sources, DNA profiles and 1 confirmed VILE operative were collected during the operation.''

''In the days following the event, Agent Kalenof displayed increasingly volatile tendencies as well as physically assaulting 4 fellow agents before being omitted from ACME. October 2nd 2008 Agent Kalenof suffered a fatal brain hemorrhage from a mutated brain tumour and respiratory failure, one week after the kidnapping.''

Once again Julia clicked, then ended her summary of the second case file.

''Reparations were paid to the family of the departed as well as a formal apology.''

Chase heard her chair creak as she turned around, forcing himself to open his eyes to remain face. She looked up, as if still expecting him to be next to her, then adjusted her gaze over to him awkwardly hunching on the bed trying to act natural.

''Seems this is when ACME took themselves off all public and private networks. All existing agents were 'fired' and then reinstated with express guidelines. The main point includes their work placement be fully hidden from any family, friends and governmental bodies.''

Chase straightened his back causing his stomach to ache, forcing his palm into his leg for support. He cleared his throat and nodded a tiny bit, his way of saying he’s listening.

Julia turned back and went on her way to move to the third and final case mentioned in the email. There was a definite pause before she read out her summary.

''C2TB7, Elando Yin.''

''Agent Yin was in service from 2003 until his disappearance in late 2011. Agent Yin volunteered to attempt incorporation into VILE through an associate in early 2011, January 27th to be exact. He was exhumed from duties at ACME as a precaution and his profile was uploaded in an attempt to increase his chances at being located.''

''Brief contact between Agent Yin and ACME were maintained until stated that he was, in fact, being recruited to what he believed was VILE or an appendage of the organisation. After 8 months of little to no contact, a body was found decomposing in a suburban sewage drain in Tokyo, Edogawa City after multiple complaints about a smell in the area citizens believed was a burst sewage pipe.''

Chase felt all hope of his life continuing past the next 8 months fizzle away as he pushed his warm palms into his aching face.

''Due to the body's severe decomposition, facial recognition was unavailable and DNA analysis was used to confirm the body was indeed Elando Yin. DNA examination also proved the substantial amount of cyanide still lingering in and around the body, causing the coroner to rule it a suicide.''

Chase squeezed his fingers into his forehead trying to press the disgustingly empty feeling that seeped from his brain back inside.

''ACME provided financial support to the immediate family of the deceased as well as an immediate stop on all infiltration tactics until further notice for legal reasons.''

For the first time, Julia’s voice trailed off, picking up the email, flattening it back out.

He was doomed to die, and by VILES hand and there was nothing he could do about it. At least in the other cases, they had opted in for this, assuming they knew the risk. Chase hadn’t.

Julia suddenly let out a small and sharp laugh as if trying to make light of the situation.

''At least we know the email checks out.''

She joked lightly.

Chase released his head from his grip and looked up to Julia, whose face instantly dropped when she saw his own. He knew he _felt_ like shit but he guessed right then and there he looked like it too.

Julia looked away, pressing her lips together displaying the awkwardness she felt at her comment just before. Chase kept his eyes on her, unsure if he was angry at the situation or at her for obviously missing the point of all this. That he was screwed. Either way, he was angry.

''This definitely, _complicates_ things.''

She mumbled in a soft voice, turning back to keep clicking away at the laptop when Chase felt his legs forced him to stand.

_Complicates things?_

He yelled within the confines of his brain.

'' _Complicates_ , **things** Ms Argent?''

Chase stomped over and snatched the email print out into his hand, scrunching it up in the centre.

'' **Things?** ''

He expressed, meeting her horrified look of confusion, forcing the fist that held the paper into his chest a few times. Maybe it was because his skin was pale, eyes frantic and his voice was bombing yet oddly shrill she looked at him with alarm. Or maybe it was because she didn’t understand that all these cases proved that Chase was going to die, horribly, against his will at any given moment and that if he hadn’t disobeyed orders he would have _also_ died a clueless idiot.

Julia stood to meet his aggression as if taking a stance against something.

''This isn’t just about you-''

Chase cut her off.

''il ne s'agit pas de moi?!''

He yelled to her in sarcastic dismay.

'' **THIS IS DIRECTLY ABOUT ME!** ''

Chase slapped the crumpled paper back onto the desk, feeling a deep pain shoot up his arm from the contact.

''Did you **fail** to understand the underlying theme or do you honestly hold such a high hatred for me that you deem it to only be a minute, 'inconvenience'.''

Julia snatched the paper out from under his hand.

''With your current irrational behaviour, I may be swayed to feel the way you seem so certain I do.''

She snapped back, flattening out the paper in her grasp. Chase felt his throat burn as he couldn’t comprehend her unwillingness to address what he was pointing at.

''I AM GOING TO DIE, JULIA.''

He forced his hands into the side of his head, saying her name without the addition of a formality for the first time.

''Chief won’t willingly put an Agent’s life in danger for the sake-''

Chase cut her off yet again.

''She already has, MULTIPLE TIMES! Chief does not care. I am going to die, and for what?!''

Chase didn’t allow her to answer a question that didn’t need to be answered, assuming she would just spout out about 'justice', the 'greater good' and 'one life for the many'.

''Am I not _allowed_ to be angry that I am in all definitions, **bait?** Or is that far too _irrational_ of me Ms Argent?!''

He gave her a split second to respond but she just stared. Chase let out a weird hysterical laugh as an official sign that he had spiralled out of control.

''I DON’T EVEN HAVE A WILL, JULIA. AND YOU ARE SUPPOSE TO BY NOW!''

He screamed.

''Who do I even _leave_ my crap too when I die? A _realtive?_ ''

Chase joked, fully deranged, letting out another impromptu laugh.

''What am I saying, _I don’t even own anything._ ''

Feeling his anger dissipate just enough to leave a small spot, a wave of complete dejection quickly filled the space.

''I have a single storage unit in Poitiers with nothing but a mattress, a chair that was in there when I rented it and 15 boxes of old case files I do **NOT** intend on returning!''

His voice wobbled as he continued.

''I travelled to a deserted island, IN A SPEED BOAT, because I thought I had found VILES hideout, ON A HUNCH I HAD IN A DREAM! I STILL have half a cuff on my wrist after I was NEARLY ARRESTED for parking at a BUS STOP! I don’t even have my suit anymore! I BURNED IT! IN THAT BATHTUB.''

Chase shook the wrist that still held part of the cuff he wasn't able to remove then pointed at the bathroom causing Julia to slightly move her head in response to look at the doorway.

''WHY? Je ne sais même pas pourquoi!''

His voice was on the verge of what he thought was breaking, forcing himself to clamp his mouth shut to save himself. Instead, this was a sign that he was about to spew up what little he’d eaten and drank over the last week. His vision darkened around the sides, sight clouded in a dark fog that made it hard to focus.

Chase stepped back again before quickly whipping himself around and smacked his body into the doorway of the bathroom. Before he even understood the next action he instinctively took, he shoved his head into the toilet and vomited violently, feeling his stomach clench tight causing him to splutter.

He coughed a few times, spitting what was left in his mouth into the water bellow when his gut clenched again, mouth watering readily. Round two.

His head throbbed as he regurgitated nothing but stomach bile as after the first go, nothing was left inside. Despite this, his gut went for another round causing him to just cough and wheeze, his eyes watering at the pain in his throat.

A few forced tears rolled down his nose and into the mess as he coughed.

His body ached, yet felt numb. His fingers were so cold while they clenched the sides of the toilet seat. He was lucky his manly ways of leaving the toilet seat up afforded him the ability to expel his stomach so efficiently.

He waited for a moment. Looking down into the black water, his head blocking out all light, unable to see what was below.

Another tear rolled down his nose and into the water, silently. Closing his eyes the liquid that tucked itself along his water line squeezed out and down his face. He felt his stomach settle, only lurching around once or twice when he moved hastily. Chase carefully removed his head from the toilet, keeping his eyes shut and collapsed to the side, body leaning on the wall.

His ears were filled with a static sound as he peeled open his eyes, faced directly with the destroyed and blackened bathtub. He still felt nauseous, weakly lifting his arm to wipe his eyes, then mouth on his sleeve. He felt so tired.

Chase allowed his head to fall to the side, hitting part of the toilet causing a white tube to fall into his lap. It was his empty bottle of medication he had placed atop in a false attempt at wanting to feel victorious. His hands stretched out to grasp it, twisting it between his fingers.

He knew that this was the cause of his sickness. He deemed it the only reason as to why. Halting his intake of these had made him sick, and it was true, it had. His bodily levels had become dependent upon them and as everyone knows once you stop something like that, Your body reacts, often extremely. But they weren’t the only reason for what just happened. It was just easier to blame a single entity instead of getting to the multiple roots of the issue.

Strength returning to the hand that held the bottle, he squeezed it tight, cracking the plastic before ditching it out in front of him.

It didn’t go far, hitting the side of the bath and bouncing back at full velocity smacking Chase directly between the eyes. He cried out, slapping his hands to his face and yelled in frustration. Chase was the architect of his lingering misery.

A small defeated whimper won it’s way out of his burned throat as he lifted his knees into his chest. He sniffled in once, just once and forced himself to stand.

Physically drained he couldn’t find his way to his feet, clasping the rim of the bathtub for support, unintentionally peering inside. It was an ashy pool of soot that softly carpeted the bottom.

He sniffed again and decided to pull himself inside, dropping down onto the mess at the bottom officially what one would call, ‘sobbing’. As he fell inside the ash that sat undisturbed wafted up and over him, covering him in a fine sprinkling. Now he could say he was, somewhat, wearing his acme suit once again. Coughing in between his tears, he felt it best this be where he remains for the foreseeable future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **F** in the chat for Devineaux.


	9. Course of Action

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one took a little longer than hoped. Watch it still be riddled with mistakes, I always seem to miss a few.
> 
> Once again I need to thank everyone for the support, Thank you all. :)

### Chapter 9 - Course of action

Chase awoke suddenly to the sound of a loud toilet flush forcing him to scramble up, clutching the side of the bath. He took a deep sharp breath through his nostrils catching mostly soot that surrounded him, coughing as a result.

His eyes stung horribly and could feel the puffed skin around them throb as he looked out to the hissing toilet. Chase instinctively smacked his lips, screwing up his face to the wretched taste that enveloped his mouth something awful.

He felt physically weak, having to hug the side of the warped bath with his body for support, resting his chin on the side.

''I will see you tomorrow, Chase.''

Julia’s voice took his attention away from the ache that tore across his body the more conscious he became. She stood by the toilet that now sat quietly.

Chase hazily affixed his squinted gaze onto her as she placed a small cylinder back atop the toilet’s water tank. She held it there, making sure it stayed upright before letting go, allowing it to stand on its own. It was at that moment, he fully registered where he was and what had proceeded.

Chase’s mind was already off and wheeling, utterly unsure to the context of her statement as she turned and disappeared from view. Small steps faded away until the sound of a door slowly closing sent the space back into a quiet void.

Too many questions threw themselves around and at one another in his mind as he tried to comprehend, anything. All he was certain on, was he needed to get out of this bath.

Using his upper body strength he ignored the raging headache that caused his ears to throb and forced his feet into the bottom of the tub. He rolled over the bath’s side and placed a foot cautiously onto the tiles below. The ash on the soles of his shoes making him slip about a little before finding his footing.

All he could taste and smell was sick and ash, as he managed to stand on the first go. Chase looked down at himself, moving his hands up into view. His palms were black. His white expensive dress shirt patched with dark smudges. His sides were worse, pulling his shirt around his body to view the completely black backside. Grumbling, he angrily ripped it off, over his head to inspect it further. It was ruined. The dark stain somehow infused itself into the sparkling white cotton of what was shy of a 150-pound dress shirt. His pants were ruined too, buffed down and already worn away where the ash stuck.

He rubbed his dirtied palms into the fabric then tossed it behind and into the bath, officially discarding it. The only top he had left was his long sleeve grey shirt which he had on underneath to keep warm. Thankfully, it was untouched by the ash he decided to well around in.

Chase wanted to go to the bathroom sink to wash his mouth out but he didn’t feel like looking in the mirror. He knew he looked ghastly. He felt ghastly. Opting that the kitchen sink was a better option for the task, he cowered out of the bathroom and into the main area.

He held his sides as the temperature suddenly dropped, the living area abruptly bathed in a light blue glow, a cold breeze with it. His lungs welcomed the fresh air that caught him welcomingly, glaring at this sudden adjustment in light.

Chase looked around as if having no idea where he was. For this room he expected to waltz back into was completely different, yet still the same.

The curtain that once stood drawn was pulled back, a window open ajar causing it to flap ever so slightly. The sky outside was tinted with a subtle blue that calmy washed the space that sat so derelict in his possession for too long. The floor was clear and the table neat with new additions and old ones stacked neatly, the chair Julia once occupied tucked tidily underneath.

He frowned, looking behind him in confusion and a little bit of disbelief at the bed. The floor next to it was completely free of the cocaine splatter he expected and his bed straightened to an extra degree. All that disturbed the pristine scene was a familiar long garment bag that sank into the bed covers.

Chase allowed his lips to part, feeling his heart thump a little harder for a brief moment. He knew exactly what that was. It was a suit. An ACME suit. Chase felt his mind force himself to look back over to the table and what sat carefully upon it and shuffled over.

Placed precisely in an orderly fashion were 3 black files stacked one on top of the other. Next to that was a new ACME pen, an unspoiled white key card, and the laminated list Julia has assigned to him. The last item there was a loose piece of paper folded in half adorned with his name in pen. He loosened his grip from around his body, placing a finger atop the paper, crossing his brows.

_Chase._

It read, in what he knew was Julia’s concise handwriting.

Not Inspector Devineaux, Agent Devineaux or just plain Devineaux. But just Chase.

Chase pressed into the paper lifting it into his grasp, unfolding what he now knew was a note that went as follows:

> Chase,
> 
> I do believe you, and for this partnership to work I need you to believe me too. I appreciate you telling me about the situation Chief has decided to put you in. Your direct honesty is a welcomed advantage to a coalition previously plagued with miscommunication. An awareness of the stress this has caused you to a physical degree was more than informing. I apologise for failing to initially see the potential gravity of the situation at hand. Although, it cannot be ignored that half of this strain and distress was brought upon by your own volition. Mints, alcohol and cigarettes do not form a sustainable diet.
> 
> I have taken the liberty to further investigate the situation on my own after it became apparent you were not to return and I thought it wise not to disturb you.
> 
> First I looked into the predicament that is the potential danger Chief had decided for you. Hopefully, it can bring you some solace in knowing that I was able to conclude Chief has yet to act upon the decision to project your profile into circulation. The plan has, thankfully, been halted for the time being due to other circumstances. I assure you that we will continue to monitor the progression and actively attempt to impede its renewal. It seems your status within ACME is still listed as an agent, for tax purposes, just with majorly reduced funding.
> 
> I was also able to rectify the impounding of the rental car and have moved ACME funds around into paying damages to both the impounding lot and rental company. I also removed what I assumed to be your description from the Bristol Police Department database in account to an active arrest warrant on police evasion, police battery, public nuisance and 8 outstanding parking tickets. I urge you to be more careful in the future in this regard and in general
> 
> The decision to destroy your ACME uniform did raise alarms within the network once communication went down. Due to your monitoring currently falling as non-essential it was not detected by other staff. I have issued you with a new suit, communicator and card. All of which unwired.
> 
> Tomorrow night you are scheduled to receive your next posting and will be set to be transferred to your next location. I was able to detail a course of action that will enable our agreement to continue. I would like to fully explain it to you in person tomorrow. Next time I hope we can cooperate and work together on a decision, as a team.
> 
> At 4.30 pm, please be inside the Bristol Museum on the second floor by the painting, ‘The Game Keeper's House’ by Lucien Pissarro. Do so with your belongings and ensure you sign out from the hotel in person. 
> 
> I will meet you there.
> 
> P.S  
>  I incinerated the cocaine on your behalf.

Chase moved the indented papers between his fingers and looked back around the room. She had visually pleasing handwriting. It was neat, bold and simplistic. It wasn’t like his which, was a crippled version of a dying cursive penmanship forced upon him at an early age.

His fingers suddenly wanted to constrict around the letter

He could feel the pity in her words, in the new cleanscape around him. She deemed it necessary to clean up after him as if he were a reckless toddler. Something he couldn’t argue was an incorrect statement. It annoyed him, the pity and his need for accepting it.

She could have just left after he stumbled out of the room. Julia owed Chase no kindness or sympathy nor was she obliged to stick around. Let alone, _help_. He was aware of the minimal connection between them, her righteous disdain for his pessimistic and blatantly rude tendencies.

Chase folded the letter back up into itself and let it fall back onto the table.

The personal time she had spent dealing with the aftermath of his existence was. Embarrassing.

Each breath after this thought felt overly warm and strenuous as he had to remember to breathe properly as if he had just run a marathon. He knew he should feel relieved that she had taken care of everything and attempted to put his life back on track. But he knew that wasn’t her purpose here. Chase himself didn’t want her to be walking around picking up after him, that notion severely uncomfortable in many ways. He was an adult, granted a stunted one at that but an adult nonetheless. Chase couldn’t properly place into words the depth of whatever he was feeling at present in a constructive manner. All he knew was that he felt riddled with confliction.

He was an inconvenience that was rife with inconveniences in comparison to her elegance. Essentially, he was a lot more trouble than he was worth. She knew that, yet she threw down a rope to allow him to climb back out of the hole he dug himself into. Chase was worried he would sooner or later unintentionally pull her down with him if she decided to hold onto her end. He understood the depth of his undeserving of her second chance.

Julila’s unwavering natural kindness left an unwanted taste in his mouth.

Chase smacked his lips, and forced his tongue around his mouth and grimaced, coughing out of disgust. Although, that was probably just remnants from his previous stomach expulsion.

As if the disgusting taste flicked a switch in his brain, he remembered what he came out here to do. Swiftly, he moved over to the kitchen sink, hurriedly turning on the faucet and cupping his hands, facing the water into his mouth.

He washed his mouth out more times than he could count, then slashed the water onto his face before dunking his head under the running water. It was nice and cold against his achingly hot skin.

For a moment he had his whole head and neck in the sink, the water splashing down directly into the hair on the back of his head. Chase kept his eyes open and on the drain, the water remained grey for a while, the flow cleaning the ash out of his hair. Before long it returned to clear, causing Chase to rub his entire head as if trying to squeeze and scrub all the impurities inside his mind out with it. Of course, that didn’t work.

He stood up straight, turning off the water as he did then rubbed his eyes. Chase moved his palms into his hair, slicking it back forcing all of the water trapped within to stream down his spine, soaking his shirt.

At least for now, he felt marginally better.

* * *

Minimal effort had taken place to ‘clean’ up the bathtub. He turned the tap on and let the water wash whatever it could away. Chase knew he couldn’t do anything to fix it and honestly cared so little that he gave up after that. He spent his entire shower in that small bathroom looking at the destroyed area through the glass door. The whole room smelt so bad.

Chase felt different this time around when he dressed in his new ACME suit. He didn’t feel confidently euphoric as he first did a few months back. At that point, he sort of was looking forward to it. As if putting on a crisp suit would fix everything. It didn’t. He ended up standing there looking at his reflection in the darkened window, disappointed but not surprised.

He sort of gathered why. This time around he knew it was all a farce. Tightening that tie around his neck felt pointless. Part of him thought if he looked decent on the outside maybe that would seep in a little. Sadly, he wasn’t as porous as he thought to positive attributes and his ego had stepped down for the time being.

Chase came to the resolution that it was a waste to use the essence of his suits alluring nature when he was in a less than ideal mood to appreciate it. The defining qualities of his uniform were put away, just deciding to wear the basics: shirt, shoes, pants and of course, the jacket. He wanted to forgo wearing it all completely but he didn't have anything else to wear.

Until the time he knew it best to depart, he re-read the note left for him a few times over. The more he read it, the more he wondered how she got the cocaine out of the carpet. It was extremely fine and he was sure he would have heard a vacuum if she had used one. It was truly the incorrect mystery he was focusing on. He managed to skip over that plot hole and focused on a more important aspect of the note. It was now that he fully understood where she wanted him to meet her.

Back inside the Bristol Museum and Art Gallery he was probably banned from. And, in front of a painting. _Art_. Something which he previously derided her for focusing on. He was sure it was a ploy of some sort. He remembered every single moment he was short with her, he was certain she must remember these moments too, if he did with such detail.

There was no doubt in his mind that he would rock up (presuming he can still enter undisturbed) and find her at that painting. She would say some quick quip about how _‘art is important and that she was right’_ then use that art in some sort of secret-spy way to _really_ show him then finish it all with _‘the light in this painting means you’re an idiot and I'm endowed with unimaginable intelligence’_ but of course in a more eloquent, modest way.

Chase scoffed at his imagination that didn’t normally flourish during the day without being unconscious. He knew full well she was too ‘conventionally polite’ to gloat. Which was such a waste for someone like Julia, who had a whole lot to gloat about.

Chase yawned as he looked down at his watch, which was also new. He slept last night or at least he assumed he did. At one point he was going through the files Julia had sorted and the next he was half hanging off the bed. His throat burned horribly, indicating that he had been snoring and his lower back ached. It didn’t take any time at all to realise it was the next day, the sun screaming through the window said enough.

He wished that he hadn’t slept, feeling drowsier than during the times when he barely slept at all. Getting what he later found out was a good 9 hours of ‘sleep’ felt like it was more detrimental than helpful. He wasn’t accustomed to this.

Once his eyes adjusted after a few good blinks he read the time.

4.21 pm 

Chase had wasted a lot of today contemplating if they’d let him back in there after being politely thrown out. Normally, he would just waltz back on in there without caring but today, he just felt off. Keeping a low profile was the object of his desire, knowing it might be best to start practising that a little more.

Chase squirmed as he watched the glass doors swing open, people exiting the building as it’s operating hours began to wind down. Instinctively, he glanced back at his watch, tightening the grip he had on his duffle bag filled with his belongings. Thanks to the addition of 3 files filled with paperwork, it was a lot heavier. He thought about leaving them behind or destroying them. But after the obvious effort Julia went into organising them for him, he couldn't force himself to harm a single paper.

It was 4.22pm.

A deep grumble made its way out as he tapped the tip of his shoe on the pavement. He couldn't keep putting it off any longer. By now he had been leaning here for a good 20 minutes, officially loitering. Any longer and he’d start to look suspicious. He knew if he was an officer patrolling, he’d single himself out for dubious behaviour instantly. Normal people don’t carry around a duffle bag half wearing a formal suit leaning on a wall in a public area. He wasn’t a fan of this newly reimagined and consistently present, anxiety.

Slamming his foot in the ground as if denying the last thought of indecision he just had, Chase forced himself forward. Before he knew it he was across the street and near the glass doors of the entrance. Keeping collected, Chase used his shoulder to push open the door, focusing his eyes forward. He moved swiftly and through the initial foyer and to the stairs that spiralled up. And just like that, the worst was over, stopping once he made it to the first floor as if amazed.

Chase straightened his shoulders looking around as if expecting someone to apprehend him at any moment. Waiting, he soon concluded that his presence here had little to no importance. Annoyed over how much time he wasted feeling disquieted over nothing, he huffed and made his way up the second flight of stairs.

Back on task, he recited the portion of her letter he made himself remember precisely as his shoes echoed up the staircase.

> _At 4.30pm, please be inside the Bristol Museum on the second floor by the painting, ‘The Game Keeper's House’ by Lucien Pissarro._

It wasn’t that he had no interest in art, he just didn’t deem it something he wanted to spend his own time messing with. The little free time he allowed himself once and awhile was not going to be spent staring at some old paint thrown on a tarp.

Chase entered a well-lit hall lined with sparklingly white walls that held an oddly airy feel. Separate half walls sat isolated throughout the space, each holding 1-2 paintings on each perfectly spaced.

He knew the painting was on the second floor, looking up at the simple sign at the top of the stairs, indicating so. At least he was on the right floor, glancing down at his watch to catch the time.

4.27pm.

Chase sighed for many reasons and begrudgingly entered the space. He had become so dependent on time.

Each step throughout the room as he searched produced a low clack that echoed around the empty gallery. His shoulders relaxed along with his clenched jaw as if naturally once it was clear he was alone, a small piece of solace he openly treasured.

Every 2 paintings had a seat as if inviting the viewer to sit and ponder what was in front of them, as well as an overly small plaque forcing one to get closer than needed. Chase had no idea what the painting looked like and honestly found all of this moderately pointless. But an overwhelming part of his soul didn’t want to disobey her simple command, especially after the kindness she afforded to him. He was sure if he just stood in the middle of the room, she could find him easily. But following orders of what was now a ‘superior’ was the last thing he could do to feel important, useful. If that’s how you could even describe it. Chase didn’t want to disappoint anyone, especially not one who already was dissatisfied with him on many levels.

Chase arched his back squinting only at the names of each painting that all hung in unison, moving on to the next to find the one he was looking for. He couldn’t fathom why the font on each plaque was so tiny, it infuriated him for someone quite tall. It made him appear even more out of his depth.

Feeling his patience rise to a dangerous level, his eyes finally fell upon what he had been looking for:

The Game Keeper's House \- Lucien Pissarro

Chase blinked a few times to make sure before rising as conformation. He stepped back and looked over his shoulders somewhat expecting Julia to appear out of thin air, then down at his watch.

4.31pm

He grumbled instantly, angry that he was ‘late’. Julia ‘late’ as well. His incompetence at a simple task made him clench his jaw tight.

Chase collapsed down onto the long ottoman in front of the painting, dropping his bag to the floor by his feet. He hunched down pressing his fingers into his eye sockets then back into his hair to keep it as neat as possible. He signed, deeming the situation too tedious for his liking. Sure, he enjoyed the quiet but he hated waiting when things needed to be done.

The cushioned seat beneath his upper thigh felt as though it shifted, forcing his head up and over in immediate response.

Julia continued to look down as she placed a briefcase in her lap, resting her gloved hands atop it delicately. She wore her ACME uniform along with a regulation winter coat with an overly large collar for protection, the same outfit she wore the night he snuck into the ACME office.

Julia quickly affixed her eyes into his and granted him a pleasant smile before turning her head up and towards the painting.

''Lucien Pissarro was a French impressionist and neo-impressionist artist who specialized in recreating landscapes and on occasion, portraits and still lifes. He was also a notable print-maker, wood engraver and designer. In 1894 he founded the Eragny Press which specialised in small hand-made books in limited print runs featuring superior coloured wood engravings. The press ran until 1914 and produced 32 titles. Lucien Pissarro consistently refused to compromise his artistic ideals, high standards and production costs which ultimately meant profits were a rarity. Despite this, Lucien Pissarro maintained a reputation for his high-quality standard of work, along with his incorporation of decorative woodcut borders, initials and the use of each opening as a unified design, rather than as two separate pages. He was quite the classical visionary in the art community.'' 

Chase swallowed as he watched and listened to her informational dialogue. She maintained her gaze up at the painting, causing Chase to feel obliged to look as well, peering at the green landscape she denoted about so in-depth.

It wasn't anything special. Just a simple painting of a stone house surrounded by green countryside.

''Although-''

She continued naturally.

''Lucien Pissarro is mainly known as a landscape artist, and not for his work as a successful printmaker.''

Julia concluded, her gloves squeaking as she squeezed her fingertips.

The room returned to a quiet state as Chase stared up at the painting by a person he knew a lot more about than he ever wanted to. In the past, Chase normally quashed her spiels before they grew too large. Not for any real malicious reason but mainly because it was often at completely the wrong time and if he was to be honest, a little annoying.

He would be lying if he didn't admit he enjoyed the sound of his own voice when he was on a righteous tangent. The thing about her long speeches is that they were always in better quality, bursting with facts and favourably well received. She spoke so knowing with a sense of politeness that teased him with its perfection.

Chase never really listened after the very first time he allowed Julia to have had her monologue. She was overly good at it, speaking eloquently with poise in general. After he had his turn to speak and nothing would ever seem to match, even stumbling over his words embarrassingly. One single moment he refused to get over ruined any possibility for a harmonious partnership.

Thus the creation of his spiteful, toxic jealousy. A burden he opted to carry with him wherever he went, unwilling to drop it and move on causing it to grow. Her modest supremacy burned him up inside, just wanting her to admit it and shove the notion in his face so he could move on.

In the present, that wish had been finally granted. And he didn’t, wouldn’t, couldn't move on like expected. He thought it would free him from the quiet rift that stopped him from accepting the person beside him as someone essentially better, not equals but one of superior stock. Unable to support the growth that came with a new partnership. All he wanted was Julia to shoulder this self devised pecking order he held onto and lived by, needing her to take it from him. She already had it and refused to accept the title. She never did, until now.

Essentially he got what he wanted in a twisted way. For Julia to stop toying around and assert herself as the dominant brain and knock him down a peg. He just never thought it was going to happen in due time with her formalist nature.

This was the second instance in his life he had fully listened to her disquisition without his felicitous interruption. The first time it birthed ignorance, now sprouting a seedling of equal and genuine communication.

One thing he was always certain on was that she surely did have the optimal voice and mannerisms for extended discourse, something he lacked in abundance.

''He spent most of his life in England, despite being French.''

Julia’s voice tore his attention away from his thoughts as he could feel her eyes on him. He turned to meet them, Julia wearing a simply pleased expression. He thought on her words for a second, before understanding why she said them.

She was comparing him to the artist above. Both French and now in England. A minuscule connection but still a connection.

''You are both dedicated to a craft you deserve more credit for, as it was where your best work and derived from.''

Chase felt his body tense at her, well, _compliment_ , swiftly averting his gaze away. It was as if she read his mind and added onto it, answering it for herself. Her connection was a lot deeper than his.

''That and you both appear to be stubborn.'' 

Chase’s throat promptly dried up, his thoughts unable to properly render, flustered of sorts. He let out a small cough finding himself press his hands together just wanting the whole interchange to pass. He didn’t enjoy these unearned niceties she bestowed upon him, ignoring the last comment.

Julia stood next to him, holding the briefcase to her side.

''Thank you for coming, Chase.''

She thanked him and said his first name as if it were a reward for his civil, cooperative behaviour. Strangely enough, to him, it was.

He turned his attention to her as she turned to the side, gesturing for him to do the same. Chase reached down and patted around for the handle to his duffle bag and stood as well. Julia took one last glance over her shoulder with a smile and stepped forward.

Chase shoved his free hand into his pocket and followed without worded instruction, knowing it was what she wanted.

They left the open gallery and back near the stairs he used to reach the second floor and glided past. Their heeled shoes clacked against the hard floor at odd times as she guided him away from all the exhibits to a maintenance closet tucked away.

Julia paused in front of it before producing her ACME card between her gloved fingers, hovering it above the handle. A familiar click mumbled from the door as she took the handle, opening it for them both.

Chase grabbed the top half of the door firmly, holding it open until they both passed through to a set of cement stairs that lead down. It shut behind them while they shuffled down to a long, well-lit hallway, like one he’d seen before.

''I trust you are feeling better?''

Julia asked lightly, keeping her stride.

Chase slinked his free fingers back into his pocket unsure of how to answer. He did feel better in a way, but also worse in another. He cleared his throat, he hadn’t spoken in a while.

''I’m fine.''

He retorted in a hoarse voice. It wasn’t a lie and it wasn’t _not_ a lie. He wasn’t about to go and explain the full depth of his mortal coil to her as his portion of a light walking conversation.

''The extra notes and documents you had not included in your initial report were quite concise. If slightly negatively toned at times. Nonetheless, very intuitive.''

He knew exactly to what she was referring too, his bag feeling heavier that looped over his fingers. Chase found it disconcerting that she remained kind in her actions and words despite everything. Her ability to move on with a pragmatic front was admirable. But that was easy with Chase no longer a threat to her wishes and at her directive.

Before Chase could even consider a response, they reached yet another door. Julia did the same thing again, placing her card to the handle and pushing it. As it opened, the freezing night air rushed to meet them, dusk settling in nicely.

Chase made sure he followed close behind as Julia was quick to continue on her path, crunching along the gravel as he had done on a previous occasion. The door slammed in the distance as Chase realised where they were. He quickly glanced around, noticing they were near to where the entrance to the ACME office was, spotting the bin it hid behind back at the building.

He didn’t have time to reminisce as Julia was a fast walker when she wanted to be. Chase had to quicken his pace to keep up and not make it look like he was stalking a strange distance behind her.

Instead of heading back out onto the street near the front doors, Julia continued in the opposite direction and avoided such areas. Soon the gravel faded away and semi-solid concrete replaced it, a substance considerably more comfortable to walk over as they slipped between neighbouring building complexes.

Behind the museum was a proper office building that had its own underground parking, seemingly utilized by the ACME staff as well. Julia turned sharply to the side once hitting the building's shared alley, Chase following suit.

The car park was small but well lit with only 2 spots filled, one seemingly by Julia as a slick black vehicle blinked it lights as they approached.

''Did you bring all your belongings?''

Julia asked once they reached the car. Chase watched her round to the driver's seat, wishing he was the one that still owned an ACME vehicle.

Chase held the bag up for her to see, Julia nodding with a smile to his wordless confirmation. She disappeared into the car, Chase opening the door and ducking inside as well. He sat down, placing his bag on his feet and shut the door.

Inside was just as cold as outside, the air still.

''Right''

Julia began breathlessly. She already had a tablet out that illuminated the entire car, tapping and swiping before coming across a blurred screen with a small play button in the centre.

''Chief assumes I am privy to your standing within ACME and is currently unaware of your misdeeds. I was properly able to cover over what I needed to maintain our agreement.''

She was already off and detailing the plan as promised in her letter left for him.

''The safest and most efficient way for me to gain an agent status and for you to maintain it is for me to inform Chief of your breach into an ACME office.''

Julia moved the screen so it sat between them, Chase glancing down confused before she tapped the screen.

A video played of a man, himself, entering the ACME office on an afternoon he wanted to forget. He watched himself walk down the stairs, then disappear before suddenly re-entering the screen. This time almost running in the opposite direction and out the door. The video ended, Chase not liking where this was about to go based on what he already knew.

''I would have used the first instance as you looked at the camera a few times, visually confirming your identity.''

Julia moved the tablet back.

''But I couldn't get the scene to play smoothly once I cut out all the, _cocaine_ , stuff. So it will have to do, along with your keycard records.''

She said quietly, Chase knowing exactly where this was headed. Chief had already teased him with it when he restarted back at ACME months before. He huffed, frustrated at being forced to relive various uncomfortable memories all at once.

''You are going to dob me in so Chief promotes you to keep me in line. Yes?''

Julia turned to him and opened her mouth squeezing her fingers around the tablet. She seemed surprised that he got it so quickly.

''What makes you think she won’t decide then and there to enact her decision to use me as, bait?''

He couldn't think of a better word than that, stuttering it out when trying to think of something else.

''I will convince her otherwise if I have to.''

Julia contended back. Chase scoffed at that instantly leaning back in his seat crossing his arms.

''The same way you ‘convinced’ Chief that Carmen Sandiego is not the enemy?''

Once he said it he immediately knew that he probably shouldn’t have, after all, his fate rested in her diligent hands. Not only that but the fire that normally sparked after insulting others rather than himself didn’t ignite. All he did was make the air around them feel harder to suck into his lungs, his stomach aching a little bit.

Julia didn’t say anything back and kept quiet, Chase peering ever so slightly over to her as she continued to tap before turning off the screen. She then reached down and then back up, a small piece of what looked like laminated paper in her hands.

''I understand you are frightened, but that is no excuse for rudeness.''

She said in a tone deeper than normal as she handed over a tiny plastic square. Julia was right, of course. Her refusal to initiate an argument to defend herself was proof that he was merely angry for the sake of being angry.

Chase carefully took the paper from her hands and moved it up to see it clearer. It was a miniaturized version of the list of ‘conditions’ she had made for him if they were to work together. It was small enough to fit inside a wallet.

''That one you can keep with you.''

Julia implied.

Chase wasn’t sure on how to react, he hadn't even accordingly reacted to Julia implying that he was frightened, which he was. He wasn’t afraid to die in general but he was scared of _how_ he might die. A gruesome death and one you don’t get to control was what alarmed him. If he was going to die it would either be knowingly in a normal way or by his own hand.

''I’m not frightened, I’m _fucking_ angry.''

He hissed, lowering his hands down into his lap knowing he should reconcile his nasty insinuation at her inabilities. He flipped the small paper between his fingertips slumping in his seat.

Julia seemed to laugh ever so slightly as if uncaring of his hostility.

''Profanity is the lowest form of conveying one’s point.''

She stated as if to lighten the mood. He found it annoying how overly accommodating she was, shooting a glance in her direction to her comment on his language.

;;Just you entering an ACME office without proper clearance will not be enough so I shall include the rental car mishap and the police warrant.''

Chase clenched his jaw at the new information as Julia continued explaining the plan to him as normal. She was going to humiliate him with no guarantee of this working.

''I-I do not think it is necessary for you to include that. I’m sure the trespassing would be enough.''

He bargained, praying that she wasn’t going to include the hotel room fiasco.

''Did you sign out of the hotel at the front desk when you left?''

She asked, completely ignoring him.

''Uh, yes.''

He answered with a mumble, slightly hurt that he was skipped over. Julia picked her tablet back up and tapped a few times before smiling.

''Perfect. That means you were seen on camera knowingly signing out after destroying a portion of your hotel room that is fully funded by ACME.''

Chase sat up confused.

''You told me to do that? Just to incriminate me?''

He spat back feeling used.

Julia looked at him briefly, pushing her glasses back up her nose.

''I need to make sure I have enough evidence for my case, I may not need to use it all, in the best-case scenario.''

Chase stuttered, gritting his teeth unable to argue with her logical reasoning despite how it would forever destroy any possibility of Chief respecting him again.

It was clear that Julia was gathering each card in this ‘Agent Devineaux’s Mistakes: The Tradings Card’ game. She had trespassing, breaking and evading the law, stealing, impulsive actions, wasting ACME funds and now damaging public property. She even had the rare wild card of dealing with illicit materials. Hopefully, she wouldn’t divulge that one when she presented her collection to Chief.

All he could do was slink back into his seat and hold his hands, fully displeased. There wasn’t anything he could contend with as it was all out of his hands once he extracted himself from the discussion when he fell ill.

Chase suddenly felt his stomach drop, sighing quietly. This all reminded him that he still had to thank her for the, _help_ , after he excused himself. It was the least he could do, as well as accept her using him as a leverage point for her promotion.

''I will contact Chief now as there is no more time to spare with you set to move on tomorrow.''

He turned to her voice.

''I will come too.''

Chase stated without really thinking.

''You can’t, it defeats the purpose. She can’t know that we have been in communication.''

Julia explained clearly. Though, he already knew that. Despite this, Chase huffed as if vexed, causing Julia to reach into her jacket, pulling out a phone. She then held out her hand, indicating for him to do the same as he shuffled to reach his back pocket. He offered her his personal phone, Julia shaking her head.

''Your ACME one. Normal phone calls are instantly detected and logged in and around ACME facilities.''

Chase frowned and patted down his whole body trying to remember where it may be, going for his bag at his feet. He opened it up digging around before retrieving it. In the back of his mind making sure to take a deep sigh of relief that he even still had it on him.

He handed it over, Julia turning them both on and setting them up, making sure he was muted on her end.

''All I can do is allow you to listen in. I'm sorry.''

She reasoned, taking back her device and returning the other to his grasp, hearing his side of the call echo the same words back, Chase quickly putting his thumb over the speaker. He sat back, looking at the phone begin to record their call as Julia prepared to leave.

He knew that this was a better time than any to communicate that he recognised her kindness she didn’t need to give him.

''Thank you, for-''

Chase shrugged with his mouth agape, not sure on what aspect of her kindness to focus on. His mouth was ahead of his brain at this point, something very common.

''Your help.''

He finished. It was the only word he could think of that fully encapsulated what he was trying to convey. 

Julia smiled.

''You’re welcome.''

She said softly back. Her face suddenly dropped as she quickly shoved herself between the two front seats and to the back. Startled, Chase shot to the side as she retracted back holding a bottle of water, a soft cylinder wrapped in foil and a tube of mints.

''I almost forgot.''

Julia handed the 3 items to a reluctant Chase.

''I looked into your spending habits both cash and card and you haven’t purchased any nutritional items in the last week.''

Julia placed them into his hands as he looked down at them unsure on how to react to her gift. In his possession was a squishy roll of aluminium foil which he assumed was a long sandwich as well as a roll of mints and bottled water that crinkled in his hands.

Ruffled at her ever-growing natural generosity he furrowed his brows embarrassed at the situation and her nosing in on his spending. Chase knew his cheeks were most likely flushed as she opened the car door, stepping out.

''I will return shortly.''

Julia said before closing the door to initiate a meeting with Chief.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Different perspective for the next chapter?
> 
> Kudos and comments are always super appreciated as well as any ideas you guys may have!


	10. Fresh Perspectives

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter will be in Julia's perspective, just to mix things up (and also the story's continuity needed it). It is a tiny bit shorter than my normal chapters by a few thousand but I wanted to keep the 'ideas' separate and not cluttered together if you get what I mean. Once again thank you guys for the support on here and on other platforms, it really means a lot! (You all know who you are!)

### Chapter 10 - Fresh Perspectives

Julia’s breath misted in the night’s air as she made her way to the ACME office door. The sky still had a hint of brightness in it tucked behind the grey clouds, meaning she could still see relatively well. She waited until she was far enough away from the car she left Devineaux in before she pulled out a set of palm cards. She couldn’t take any chances this time. The last instance she stuck her neck out it got caught on the barbed-wire fence, shooting her back down the pecking order. There is taking an educated risk upon one’s own volition, then there is taking an educated risk with someone else in tow who was aware of the risk. It wasn’t just her who knew the stakes this time. He was quick to point out the obvious route this could all take.

_Overly pessimistic to a concerning degree._

She had to make sure she only said that in her mind, the phone shoved in her coat pocket currently live on a call with the exact man she judged. 

The area around her was devoid of typical urban sounds, just the crunch of her shoes on the gravel as the light above the door illuminated the surroundings with a yellow glaze. Her breath hitched, taking a moment to sigh deeply at what was about to happen, keeping the laptop tightly tucked under her arm

She had prepared, of course. The self-made cards in her were hand dotted with points she wanted to remember to bring up during the impromptu meeting. Her eyes instinctively wandered down to them as she planted herself in front of the door, flicking through. She had memorised them completely but still wanted to make sure. 

Julia wasn’t nervous, no, she was prepared. And being part of being prepared is remembering the situation you are about to put yourself in even if it brings slight mental peril onto oneself. 

Her hands felt numb at their tips despite being covered with gloves as she carefully shoved the notes into her pocket, pulling out her ACME card instead. She quickly went through her mental checklist as the door clicked open, stepping inside. 

Heels clicking down the stairs she turned to the room she spent 9 hours a day in, clicking away at a computer. The room where Devineaux appeared one afternoon, where she gassed him for childish behaviour, dragged his lifeless body into with great effort and where she told him what she really thought. Julia stepped inside and turned on the light. It was a room filled with mix feelings. 

She walked over to the table and flipped open the laptop she had with her, the screen already alert with what she had prepared to start with. Julia tapped the mouse pad once, the giant screen that made up one wall came to life, the blurred video ready to play stretched onto the screen. 

Julia took another deep breath, taking off her winter jacket placing it neatly on the table, making sure the pocket that held the phone was resting flat. She let her hand rest on the fabric where she could feel the device, knowing that he was listening silently in on what was about to transpire. 

It was the first time that she had ever seen him so, despondent, disconsolate. His extended moments of quietness were strange. Finally, his sad features matched the new stillness of his mouth. His voice is far less rigid, now just low. Instead of him always being harsh with direct self-assurance with small moments of melancholy disillusion, he was all spiritless dissociation with tiny instances of defensive strength which fizzled away into visible discomfort. She had no idea what had happened in the months prior but assumed the learning of his inferiority was the tipping point. 

She did pity his situation. Especially after the kidnapping and all, whatever they did to him left something unhinged within him. He didn’t deserve to be treated as, bait, as he opted to put it. No one did, no matter their past actions. She was sure that anyone would be fully disjointed at learning their worth was tied in with their planned fate. All she knew was that it was all strangely, refreshing. Devineaux had never seemed more human to her in the last 24 hours than he had in the better part of nearly a year they had worked together. The entire time he remained distant on all accounts. 

Julia held the ACME pen in her hand, slinking an arm around her back to fix her posture. She lifted it to her eye line, seeing the door blurred behind, the same one Chase seemed to cower out of after she let him have it. Her finger twitched above the pens clicker, suddenly unsure if this was the right course of action, for them both. 

She was one who had experienced heated quarrels with the same type of individual before who tested her polite patience. Chase was not a new concept to her. She delved into law, his type of assured egotism was rampant among that community. All instances where a personal argument spun that way, they always retorted back. She had expected Devineaux to follow suit but he didn’t, he remained mostly quiet. It was odd for sure. But at the time it still felt like a triumph. To cause someone so high on their own fumes to squirm at her worded might. She essentially called him stupid, right to his face in a few different ways. The way he averted his eyes was a victory all in itself. 

It wasn’t until after he left that she even thought she could feel dejected about what she said, even to a small degree. The pastry and file he left behind stirred a small inkling of regret in her stomach. She ended up spending the entire night going through the file, right in the office. It was interesting, to say the least. His notes were scrupulous and surprising. Julia was aware of the commendable work he had done before when a detective. This felt like a testament to that, as if she was finally seeing the partner she was promised. He existed in the handwritten words etched into sticky notes stuck all over documents, circled passages and scribbled into the margins. 

The idea of redemption didn’t seem so far fetched when the next meeting took place. His shifting gaze and lack thereof input confirmed what she had decided upon. Chase did have a few moments of relapse but he appeared visibly just as upset with himself over it as she was offended by his words. 

Julia didn’t feel comfortable recalling the hotel room fiasco, as if she thought Devineaux could tell she was just by the shift in static frequencies over the phone. She knew he wanted to not address it so she wouldn’t, at least not for a while. It illustrated to her that he clearly had something churning around inside that empty stomach of his. His prescription of Zoloft was evidence of that. It was further proof to her that he was human, not so impenetrable as he forced himself to be, vulnerable. Extremely vulnerable. Julia gathered once he departed, and never returned that he wasn't handling this stress well and forced herself not to peek her head into the bathroom. Out of respect, sympathy. And also because hearing him retch moments before made her stomach twist. 

Chase was a strange being she felt like she was only just now starting to acquaint herself with. He seemed like he could be nice, if a little condescending and without patience. She felt like he oozed a toxic substance that made him say insensible things for no reason as if his brain unable to reach his mouth before he spoke. His apology, although spotty, was proof that his sanctimonious vanity had a well developed conscious shoved underneath. Chase had finally explained his actions and the reasoning behind them. He was trying. 

The simple fact that she found him directly in front of the correct painting that was stipulated in her note proved he was willing to listen, even if it had no real benefit to him at all and could have easily been ignored. He passed her test with flying colours. 

Julia pressed her thumb onto the pen’s clicker and dropped the pen to the floor. It went straight down, wobbling on the tip before remaining upright. 

She was going to forgive him, fully, in due time but she would not forget. He had not earned that fully fresh and clean start and there was little possibility he ever would at this point. This was her turn. 

A strong beam of blue light exploded from the pen, Chief’s visage hazing into view. Julia stuck both arms around her back, adjusting her feet so she appeared professional. Chief stuck her eyes directly onto Julia, turning the corners of her mouth up at the sides. 

Julia felt her hands press into her back at the sight of her commander. She hadn’t conversed ‘face to face’ with her in a long while. 

"Agent Argent." 

Chief moved her gaze quickly around the empty room. 

"Working late?" 

She commented, half-seriously with a hint of jest. Julia knew that Chief calling her ‘agent’ was merely a formality. She wasn’t exactly an agent in the sense she once was. 

Julia forced herself to relax the pressure she forced onto her spine and enacted the plan she had prepared, getting to the point at hand. 

"Yes, In fact. And I believe my ‘work’ requires your attention." 

She clarified, causing Chief to cross her brows. 

"That is what Directed Reports are for, Argent.'' 

Chief noted, deepening her voice. 

Julia straightened her neck at the resistance and moved a hand down to the laptop’s mouse pad. She knew times were strenuous with the lack thereof VILE or Carmen Sandiego sitings. She may have been away from the front line but she still tried her best to stay in the loop. 

"I thought this would be better conveyed to you in person." 

Her finger lightly tapped the pad, the giant screen behind her playing the video of Devineaux walking into the ACME office, then back out again. It was the same video she had shown him previously. 

The surveillance footage replayed itself a few times, forcing silence between them. She watched as Chief silently drew a large breath in, then back out again, before placing her thumb and forefinger onto her temple. 

"Please tell me that was not Devineaux." 

She grumbled, moving so just her index finger pressed on the spot between her eyes, forcing them shut. 

"I regret to inform you that it is, Chief." 

The video continued to repeat. 

"When." 

Chief demanded simply. 

"Two days ago at 5.09 pm." 

Julia answered, watching Chief’s eyes fixate on the footage that continued on a loop. She had set the line and now it was time to throw some chum into the water. 

"I understand that Agent Devineaux’s position within ACME means that his appearance in an office is unwarranted, due to the current parameters set in place, by you, Chief." 

She stated as if she knew about the email all along, and agreed with it, hearing a small huff from her superior. 

"Seems we have become too lax with those guidelines." 

Chief almost humoured the situation before she squinted her gaze. 

"What is that he is holding, a box? He doesn’t appear to leave with it." 

Julia had prepared for this. 

"It was just an empty sweet box. It was dumped in the room. Nothing but remnants of what were pastries, I presume." 

She conjectured quickly. Chief turned her glare onto Julia, looking her up and down for a moment. Saying it was found in Julia’s office quarters would exempt any questions about or to her office partner, who worked in the opposite room. 

"When did you become aware of this incident?" 

Chief questioned, her gaze piercing. 

Julia remained confidently composed. 

"Unfortunately, I was unwell the day proceeding, so not until yesterday when doing the daily security checks, Chief." 

She lied with conviction. 

"Are there signs that anything was taken? If he took something, there is no possible instance he is smart enough to cover his tracks." 

Chief mocked, making Julia feel uneasy due to the fact she knew Chase could hear every word. If Chief truly thought Devineaux obtuse, she wouldn’t have asked if anything was taken. This notion made Julia think Chief slightly worried for the decent qualities that lay within Devineaux that could take harm upon ACME if he saw fit. Chief was completely aware of Chase's academic accomplishments as well as his extensively glowing employment records, minus the subpar last 3 years. He was far from a fool. More out of his luck, grasping at poorly timed chances to get his groove back. But the idea of him being one of those completely dimwitted men who only got his job because of an outdated, misogynistic system seemed to give Chief comfort to deem him as such. Even if it was a falsehood.

"No Chief, nothing was taken. I conducted a full evaluation of all inventory following the review of the security footage." 

She lied once again. Lying to her superior felt better than she thought it would. Julia had made sure to replace the laptop as if it was never taken. It was easy to do, especially when she was essentially in control of the security of this ACME office. 

Chief sighed, crossing her arms as Julia decided to stop the looped video. 

She was aware that this simply wasn’t enough to get the desired result and knew more was needed to be shared. 

"After this instance, I took it upon myself to investigate further on how he came across this place. As I’m informed that he was not made cognizant of its location. I first made sure that all of his items were also still online, which they are." 

Julia noted, swiping across the pad to reveal multiple documents regarding the rental car that was impounded and the 8 parking violations. 

"After only a brief look into his online profile, there were multiple records presented under his name in regards to 8 outstanding parking violations as well as fines from the rental company the vehicle was registered with. All of which automatically charged to the ACME account, transpiring exactly 4 days ago."

Julia swiped across the pad once again, this time the police warrant clearly describing Chase slid onto the screen. 

"This led me to a well-documented incident in the Bristol Police Department database which a police warrant was issued for his arrest around the same time. He has been charged with police battery, public nuisance and evasion of police with a set of regulation handcuffs." 

Julia concluded and turned her gaze to Chief who had her fingers pressed into her forehead. Julia waited for a response but the Chief remained quiet. Her eyes shifted to her jacket that lay on the table and to the pocket the phone was in. It seemed what she had produced so far would be sufficient once she concluded but with the strife Devineaux had caused her before, she decided to add one last thing in while she was on this euphoric high. 

"Agent Devineaux also caused extensive disrepair to his hotel room.'' 

Julia slid her finger across the pad for the second last time to another video, this time of Chase signing out of the hotel just hours beforehand, then a photo supplied by the hotel company of the damaged bathroom. Within the 20 minutes of Devineaux signing out, the hotel cleaners had discovered the mess and snapped proof of it for the invoice. 

Chief moved her chin up to see. 

"It seems he was aware of the complications that would arise with him being there if they inspected his room and left earlier than booked.'' 

Julia brushed her finger over, a final bill from the hotel appearing upon the screen. It was quite extensive. 

"It describes extensive destruction, by fire, to the bathtub and surrounding area, as well as damage to the ceiling fan that all account for the sum." 

Julia could feel the seething vexation emulating from the hologram woman. Her job was almost complete. 

''As part of regulation to maintain the anonymity of our agent within ACME, I paid the appropriate reparations and apologies to the rental company, police department and hotel. I made sure all records of his appearance via any means were either erased or altered, via the guidelines.'' 

''Good.'' 

Chief responded softly. 

Julia carefully shut the laptop, the room darkened by the screen turning to a dark navy blue and stood quietly, allowing Chief to think. After a moment, Chief turned her head away from Julia and spoke softly to someone ‘off-screen’. 

''Gather the receipts from under Agent Chase Devineaux profile from the last 2 weeks and deduct them from his wage. If it does not cover the amount, take what is needed from any pre-existing digital funds connected to his name.'' 

Julia felt her eyes widen. She had not planned for that, a small spike of regret hitting the side of her stomach. Worst of all, she knew Chase heard everything. 

Chief sighed looking back to Julia who quickly softened her features back to normal, pushing her glasses back up her nose. 

''Seems keeping Devineaux away from it all causes just as many problems as if he were on the front.'' 

Chief noted as if making light of what she just did. Julia swallowed, it was the perfect time to insinuate what she wanted out of all this. 

''That brings me to my point, Chief.'' 

Julia riposted calmly, feeling Chiefs gaze become deepened as if accusingly. 

"I know your plan for him is currently on hold due to a decline in VILE activity. As you have said yourself Chief, Devineaux is brash but experienced. Those qualifications can collide badly with one another if not properly monitored from an outside source. He seems to have an innate aptitude for drawing out Carmen Sandiego from her hiding spots, just with his presence-." 

Chief suddenly cut her off, something she had never done to her before. 

''To the point, Argent.'' 

She snapped hurriedly. 

Taken aback slightly she blinked, repositioning her mind. She assumed Chief was distressed with all the bad news, so she didn’t let it affect her stride. 

''I believe it’s worth returning Devineaux to a proper state as an agent. Seeing as his, destructive tendencies are present no matter the situation, it would be easier to control if he was, _personally_ , monitored. He is also one of the only Agents known by both VILE and Carmen Sandiego, and bringing him back to the forefront would surely turn out some results, as well as providing upon the initial plan you had for him. I deem it a safer move to keep his situation more, normal, in line with the status quo. So he does not becomes bored and seek other outlets, thus leading to suspicion.'' 

Julia clarified. 

''I would be okay with taking on that role for the time being.'' 

She stated. 

Chief lifted her head as if to see her clearer. She understood the point Julia was trying to make and wanted her to keep proving if she was worth it. 

''You think he needs a, _babysitter?_.''

She mocked with serious intentions. Julia clenched the hand that remained behind her back, knowing Chase would be less than happy to have heard that.

"It would take far too long to acclimatise him with anyone else. Nor would it be fair to ask another to tolerate what may occur without proper foresight. I also believe it’s best to keep him with what he knows, what he relatively trusts. Changing things or dynamics may have a reverse effect." 

Julia contended with Chief's consideration of her proposal, knowing it best to play upon her particular fondness for downplaying Devineaux’s age to that of a toddler. Chief stepped closer to the laptop and looked down at it, then back up to Julia. 

"Is this opinion based upon your gut feeling, or your mind, Agent Argent?'' 

Julia held her tongue for a split second, knowing what the right answer was. Chief had once before told her to listen to her mind rather than her gut as they watched Chase’s discharge from the hospital. This was an examination, a trick even to judge her character. Unbeknownst to Chief, this was a test she had studied for. 

''My **mind** , Chief.'' 

She answered strongly, watching Chief smile to confirm her correct answer. 

''Second chances sometimes prove to be beneficial, even if some don’t deserve it.'' 

Chief stated coldly, Julia aware that she referred to Chase in regards to the latter point. 

Julia moved her other hand to the crook in her back, tightly squeezing her fingers to express a small flicker of joy over her success. 

''I will be sure to not let you down, Chief.'' 

She asked for confirmation of her new job as a _field_ agent once more with a smile to her Chief. 

''Then I will make the necessary arrangements.'' 

Chief ‘walked’ back to near the pen. 

''Have a pleasant evening Agent Argent. I shall be in contact soon.'' 

With that, Chief's presence within the room flickered away, Julia’s pen falling lifeless to the side. 

Julia couldn’t help but beam, bouncing her hands that held one another off her back. It went perfectly well. One could say even more than perfect because she didn’t suspect a thing, not that she was _really_ deceiving anyone. Julia knew she had planned it all to the tenth degree. Some parts of her plan she didn’t even have to enact. The only thing she wasn’t organised for was Chief’s decision to send Chase into an early state of bankruptcy. 

Julia suddenly felt her face fall, as she looked over at her coat draped on the table. She let out a small sigh, moving over to her coat to pull out the phone. As she did, she turned on the screen and to her surprise, the call had ended. The call time had stopped at 14 minutes and 29 seconds. Chase had hung up sometime near the end of the meeting, she gathered from a quick calculation from her watch. 

She didn’t know what to think about it and decided to collect her things as she mulled over the possibilities, slipping the coat back on. 

_Maybe it was an accident. He is prone to them._

She pondered, turning off the light and exiting the room. Julia didn’t want to just assume he felt, _hurt_ , and decided to end the call so he didn’t have to listen. That wasn’t a fair assumption to his tolerance. 

Her heeled shoes echoed against the smoothed concrete as she neared the exit. Julia flicked out her card and tapped it to the door, meeting the icy wind from outside. It was now truly dark, and horribly cold. 

This was the one thing she didn’t miss most about living in England. The cold nights, those ones in winter were especially unforgiving. She yearned to live in Poitiers once more, back in her nice apartment in the city centre. Sure, it got cold there too, but the sky was never so grey and sad when it did so. 

A puff of smoke hit her in the face, unintentionally breathing it in causing her to cough, letting go of the door. It slammed loudly right behind her making her jump. She placed a gloved hand over her mouth squinting her eyes in disgust. 

''Sorry.'' 

A deeply muffled male voice spoke to her side. Startled, Julia turned to meet it witnessing Chase waving his hand through the smoke in the air, holding a lit cigarette between his fingers. 

''I didn’t expect you so soon.'' 

Chase leaned off the wall near the door and flicked the cigarette into the distance, the orange dot jetting off into the dark like a shooting star in the night sky. He let out one last smoky exhale to his side, making sure this time to not blow it directly in her vicinity. 

Julia was confused as to why he was here, especially after the call was ended on his side. And the fact that he was smoking in a public space with a sign nearby that clearly said smoking was prohibited in the area was a whole other matter. 

''Why are you here?'' 

She asked simply, letting out one last tiny cough, able to taste the ashy smell in her throat. 

Chase forced his hands into his pockets. His coat was now fully buttoned up and he hunched his shoulders, clearly cold. 

''I can not in good conscience let you walk alone in the dark.'' 

He said with more vigour in his voice. 

''And I didn’t want to smoke in your car.'' 

His tone dipped in energy at that last part. 

''You can't smoke here either.''

Julia pointed a finger to the no-smoking sign near the light above the door. She knew it was there but assumed he deliberately failed to notice it.

''And you shouldn't smoke at all.''

Adding in quickly, more so upset at the easily avoidable action of having smoke forcibly shoved in her face rather than his personal addiction at this point.

Chase moved his shoulders in on himself and seemingly rolled his eyes the tiniest bit but stopped himself before doing the whole action noticeably. He didn't say anything in response even though he parted his lips as if he wanted to and averted his gaze instead, which was odd.

Julia pressed in on herself as well, letting out a small awkward smile despite her throat froggy from the forced shotgunning. They stood in an equal silence before Chase turned to the side, the gravel crunching under his shoes, gesturing for them to begin for the car.

Julia accepted the escort and stepped out so she could walk next to him. 

The area was indeed dark. She had done this walk before, even later at night. Julia was not afraid of what may lurk in the shadows as one of her stature ‘should’ be. She could defend herself, hell, she could gas gun her attacker if she wanted to. Alas, a tiny voice in the back of her mind made sure she had a strategy in case the worst did occur. It was something ingrained into anyone alone in a visibly obscure place. You couldn’t help it. 

But Julia was unable to not admit that it was nice to walk with someone. That tiny voice decided to be silent this time around in the presence of Chase at her side. She was for once able to walk without suddenly quickening her pace at any point because she decided to think about that particular news story where a woman was murdered walking home at night. 

''Congratulations, seems you are a _field_ agent once again, Ms Argent.'' 

The husky voice of her new partner beside her broke her thoughts. She gazed to the side, meeting his eyes. Both of them turned away. Julia felt as if he had read her mind at his expression on the _field_ part of that field agent. She also wasn't sure if his 'congratulations' was sarcastic in the normal sense as his voice didn't sound as if he was being so. 

''Thank you. It went well, as I expected.'' 

She chimed back. 

Julia heard a small ‘humph’ make its way out of his throat as they neared the underground car park. There wasn't a direct sign to say that it was a negative 'humph' to her self assured statement. Either way, he seemed a lot more talkative than he was before. She anticipated him to be far more sullen, since he heard every single insult Chief made about him, along with the fact he won’t be getting paid for probably the next month or so. Julia felt the same sting as before after Chief told someone out of her view to strip Chase of his money, even what he already had. It could sort of be, her fault. Maybe if she hadn’t added that last point about the destruction of property Chief would have abstained from actual punishment. She mainly did so she could take an opportunity to have a win against him at his expense. It possibly could have been the wrong time for it. 

Chase suddenly ruffled around in his coat pocket beside her, pulling out the half crumpled mint packet she had given to him before and slid a few out onto his hand. He slapped them into his mouth, crunching down loudly. 

He walked with them in his fingers for a little, playing with the empty foil until they reached the car park. Once out of the breeze he turned to her, dubiously moving the packet in her direction, using his movements to ask if she wanted one too. _Sharing._ Julia stopped walking, causing Chase to do the same. He stood there, offering to share his gift with her. 

Julia smiled a little. Feeling awkward slightly at the exchange and hesitantly stretched out a gloved hand in acceptance.

Chase squeezed his thumb down the packet until a single, mint fell onto her glove. She pushed it to the tip of her fingers, leaving a dusty trail on the leather and placed it in her mouth. 

It instantly enveloped her mouth with a cooling sensation, as if she just downed a tube of ultra minty toothpaste. She crunched on it too, as Chase had done before. He shoved his hands back into his pockets turning his head away and to the car. 

He walked away as if that was only a natural occurrence between them. She felt like that was it his way of confirming that they were indeed partners. No handshake, contract or verbal agreement between them felt more real than what he just did. Now it truly felt like they were on the same wavelength as she crunched on that incredibly strong mint. 

Julia reached for the keys in her coat pocket and concluded that Chase Devineaux was truly a weird individual. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Meanwhile, Chase listening to Chief drag his ass:  
> 
> 
> I love comments, no matter what they entail. Do enlighten me.


	11. Personal Interactions: Unavailable

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took me a whole month and for that, I sincerely apologise for the lengthy wait. I was busy and if I'm honest with all of you, incredibly lazy. But I digress. Here is chapter 11. I made sure to make it nice and long, nice and awkward and filled with plenty of Chase and Julia interactions for all kids back home. Thank you for the continued support on here and Tumblr, it means the world. :)

### Chapter 11 - Personal Interactions: Unavailable

He wasn’t surprised by what he heard. It didn’t make his stomach drop or head throb as he expected it to. Chase sat and listened until the point where Julia told Chief her opinions were all concocted within her mind and not her gut. After that he had heard enough, his tolerance for the conversation he spied in on at its peak. Julia had achieved what she set out to do. It also coincided with the moment he finished the sandwich and needed a cigarette. He chugged the bottle of water, squeezing its soft plastic sides, forcing the water down his throat, then stepped out of the vehicle. The second he shut the door behind him the car re-locked itself, flashing its headlights as a sign. So there was no going back on his actions now.

Julia was nice enough to not throw out his cigarettes during her spring cleaning of his hotel room. After she added every little detail of his mistakes in her presentation to Chief, he knew Chief would never value the sound of his name ever again unless it was in an obituary.

Though he had to admit, he admired Julia’s tenacity to puncture his ego. She was impressively relentless with her treading down upon him with her righteous, overly kind heel right on his windpipe. He commended her for it. It was only fair when he had done so to her occasionally. Time could only tell when it would happen back to him. But he had hoped it could have just been in private, say, not in front of his employer who recently displayed no regard for his personal wellbeing.

All of this ‘backstabbing’ forced him to recall his past proper detective days. It was a constant competitive egotistic race for the best murder, assault or B & E case where the number of felonies you solved each month determined where you stood in the social ranking within your department. Incomparable self-assurance was the only way to succeed and your achievements determined your worth and status to those around you.

Chase hated every single one of those self-loathing pricks who swung their overly mentioned and bragged about genital member around that place, just as much as they hated him. He was one of them; he knew that. He didn’t care; he learned not to care, openly that is. It was how you survived around a pack of blood-hungry jackals that hovered around the Sergeant's office at the beginning of every week for the recent case assignments. He only realised it when he finally became that Sargent, suddenly the apple to everyone's eye. Even the one's who he knew loathed him for his heightened status. Chase would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy the gentle patting and feeding of his ego during this overly glorified time in his mind. After a childhood of nothing like it, it felt like liquid ecstasy coursing through his veins whenever his achievements were commended. He was addicted within weeks of his promotion and sought it out with obsessive determination for every second of his existence.

Julia knew how to play the ‘what goes around comes around 10 times harder right in your face’ game extremely well for someone so needlessly polite.

He ended up in the alleyway just out from the car park, attempting to light one of the last cigarettes he had left with a nearly empty lighter. The car had become too full of his thoughts. The air was strangely moist, causing the light to weakly smoulder the end of the smoke. After struggling and a few French curses, he lit it. It didn’t do much to distract himself from the inevitable. His eyes unavoidably stuck upon the door to the ACME office in the distance, illuminated by a single light placed above it, a beacon to a place he wasn’t allowed inside. It was dark at this end of the street, concerningly so that it even made him uncomfortable to stand in. Him, a 5 foot 11 man with nothing much to lose apart from a storage unit. What could only be described as a slight twinge of empathy hung over his newly filled stomach.

With deliberation and an excuse that he wanted to _just_ smoke out in the open to keep it off his fresh clothes, he trudged over to the door to wait for her to come out. It was the least he could do to express his gratitude without having to say ‘thank you’ again for the kindness she continued to bequeath him. Even if she threw him under the bus for a promotion. He respected her ruthful actions more than anything. Proving once and for all that she wasn’t without a solid backbone. A true career driver detective deep down, seems she would survive quite well if she chose that path.

After she appeared, then scolded him for smoking directly, if accidentally in her face. They walked back to the car. The aura between them still felt rigid but overall less shaken and distant. They were on the same page. Maybe not in the same sentence or paragraph, but at least they were in the same book this time. Besides, there wasn’t anything he could fight or scrutinize her over. It was all done, and she accomplished exactly what was set out to be achieved. These thoughts amounted to him offering her a mint, a sign of accepting the developing familiarity. All he wanted right now was to end tonight with a wonderful stew in the comfort of his lonesome. He had his fill of interactions for the day.

He hovered his fingers underneath the car door’s handle, waiting for her to unlock it. He wanted to get his belongings and remove himself from the equation. He would find a hotel for the night. He was sure he had enough _cash_ on hand for that.

The front lights flashed, lighting up the surrounding area briefly. Chase dug his fingers under the handle and popped open the door. He leaned inside and grabbed out his bag slapping the door shut, reaching around for his wallet pulling it out when Julia’s voice stopped him.

‘’What are you doing?’’

She spoke over the car with a sense of questioning worry in her voice. Chase continued to step away from the vehicle as if making it obvious he wasn’t sticking around to answer her properly, avoiding eye contact.

‘’Unless we have more pressing topics to discuss regarding this, _partnership_ that haven’t already been _exploited_ , I wish to part ways for the night.

Chase said passive-aggressively, unintentionally. He didn’t intend on that coming out so belligerent.

‘’I don’t particularly think it’s safe for you to wander out into the night, especially in this weather.’’

He continued to distance himself from the verbally hounding Julia, who rounded the car in pursuit.

‘’I think I’m perfectly capable enough to find myself a hotel, Ms Argent.’’

Chase stated formally, trying to reestablish the wall between his personal life and what Julia knew of his professional one she briefly peaked over when offering her a mint.

‘’Your capability in finding accommodation is not under examination nor scrutiny, the _funds_ you require to obtain the place in question is what falls under the banner of inadequate.’’

Julia spoke in a stronger, deeper tone than before, making Chase pause in his further scamper away from confrontation. By now he had dug his wallet out, clutching his bag under his arm and into his chest. He rubbed his wallet open with numb fingers and quickly skimmed through the wad of cash in multiple currencies until he hit a single ten-pound note. He tried to locate another that was the same but was out of luck. Lifting it out to confirm, he crunched it back in and hovered a thumb over his carte Bleue, then international Visa card.

Chase clenched his jaw tight, turning back around to see Julia, crossed arms with a serious gaze and hunched shoulders standing near the bonnet.

He wanted to at least find a cash machine and confirm for himself if Chief had decided to and then take his money, digitally. Judging upon Julia’s fancy way of saying it, he probably had nothing left at this point. He knew ACME paid well and if they had to dip into his own money to pay off who they needed because of him, then it surely was a surmountable sum he had gained.

He slapped his wallet closed as if unfazed by it all walked back.

‘’I would like to see it for myself if I am now... _impoverished_.’’

Julia shot her gaze away when Chase hardened his tone in her direction. She looked guilty; it made him uncomfortable, not victorious as he had hoped. He turned his eyes away ashamed of sorts, using this time to force his wallet back into his pants.

‘’Do you know where the nearest, uh, distributeur de billets, is?’’

He asked, softening his tone. Julia turned back to her side of the car and opened the door, peeking out from over the hood of the car.

‘’There is a cash machine nearby. I can escort you.’’

She slipped into the car, the thump of the door shutting behind her echoing throughout the parking lot before he could protest her help. Chase felt a deep grumble roll out from his throat naturally at her refusal of his turndown. Julia started the car, the headlights beaming on, the engine humming. Reluctantly, Chase grabbed the handle, cracking the door open to slide inside then collapse into the seat.

* * *

Julia was correct when she said one was nearby. So nearby, in fact, he easily could have walked there himself.

Chase allowed the momentum of the turning vehicle he was a passenger in to force his arm into the door as she pulled into one of the many empty parking bays right in front of the ATM they sought. She had taken him to a commercial strip of business buildings. Each stuck one after another with a single alley down the middle, all of which were now closed.

A white glow surrounded the cash machine that had a bright blue electronic sign that read ‘TSB’. Once Julia turned off the ignition, the car’s interior light fazed softly on. Chase cleared his throat as he turned for the door, the car unlocking automatically from his touch.

"You can always check your account bank balance on your phone. I can help you set it up if you need."

Julia spoke up quietly behind him. Chase paused while exiting the car and flashed a look over his shoulder at an awkwardly smiling Julia. He gritted his teeth at her comment. A comment that laced with pity and something else this time. He didn’t know what it was, but it made his nostrils flare when he assumed it was a mockery. He continued out of the car and shut the door behind him a little harder to act as his answer to her needless comment.

He strode up to the machine, pulling out his wallet once again flicking it open to his international VISA card. He pulled it out and shoved it into the plastic green slot that flashed once it ate up his card. The screen changed its appearance, Chase leaning his forearm on the top of the machine that jutted out of the wall, pressing his forehead into his sleeve. A ‘please wait’ message appeared on the screen, causing Chase to press his other hand under his coat and to his hip impatiently.

Chase grumbled again, rolling his head to glance ever so slightly back over the bunched fabric at his shoulder. He quickly searched the car that was barely even a meter away from where he stood, slowly clenching his fist that continued to numb that he had resting against the top of the machine. His eyes caught Julia's illuminated face that flickered between varying levels of shine as she looked down. She was tapping away at her tablet, not paying him any attention.

Blinking a few times, unsure why he even bothered enough to look back. The screen finally finished loading. Lowering his hand that was above his head, he pressed his icy fingers to his lips, blowing warm air over his knuckles. He flexed, moving a finger down to press the button next to the arrow that read ‘balance enquiry’. Pausing, he pondered quickly over the other option which was ‘withdraw’. Ignoring it and the aching feeling it caused in the back of his neck, he tapped the button, making a clear beep noise.

It went back to loading as Chase had to move his hands into his pant pockets, the tips of his fingers throbbing from the cold. Suddenly the machine whirred, his card appearing between the plastic dispenser that flashed once again. He plucked his card out and slipped it back into his wallet when just below the spot his card was spat from, a piece of paper appeared. It slowly slid out as it was being printed, Chase impatiently ripping it out, causing the machine to grunt. He eagerly lifted the paper to his nose and his face immediately fell from a grouchy squint to a dejected gaze.

**ACCT BAL. 0  
AVAIL BAL. 0**

Chase felt his grip on the tiny slip of paper weaken as his heart seemed to sink deeper into no longer existing. ACME worked quickly when they needed to. He did not understand why he was even bewildered. This was something he should have expected, but it became obvious he still, foolishly, believed in the obscure notion of hope. Chase was officially paying for his mistakes, this time financially.

A small rumble vibrated within his breast pocket, distracting him from his miserable thoughts. He placed a hand on top of where it came from on his outer layer, feeling the outline of his ACME pen through his jacket. It vibrated between his fingers as he moved his hand inside to pull it out. It flashed blue every other second, lighting up the area. Chase turned to the car, Julia still looking down, paying him no attention. He knew full well this would be Chief, so he couldn’t answer it right there.

Unsure, he shot one last glance at the car and started moving away, holding the pen as it continued to flash. Before long he was a few businesses away when a dark alley appeared to his side. It loomed quietly as a viable option, a cold draft almost pulling him in. Wanting to not leave Chief waiting any longer, he dipped quickly into the darkness.

He looked back out into the weakly lit car park in the distance and felt this was far enough away to ensure privacy and pressed his thumb into the clicker. He dropped the pen and watched it wobble upright, straightening his jacket. He folded the receipt into his palm and clenched his hands, pressing his fists into his spine to make himself stand tall with fake confidence.

Blue light exploded from the tip of the pen, Chief’s image coming into view. Chase felt his entire body tense with her glare, his shoulders squashing into his neck before he forced them back down. She knew everything he had done. The rental car, the police incident. The hotel bathroom. His stomach lurched, causing him to wince as Chief smiled politely.

‘’Agent Devineaux.’’

She cooed almost derisively.

Chief’s soft smile suddenly faded away as she carefully looked around and frowned. She held her mouth open, then shut it again. Her eyes closed briefly before she sighed. Chase shuffled, knowing she was most likely about to ask why he was in an alleyway but decided to not even address it.

‘’Change of plans agent.’’

She spoke strangely cordially, moving on and ignoring her surroundings.

‘’Due to the crime net, logistics and security system now officially back in full operation we can properly reestablish ACME’s full work roster, placements and assignments.’’

Chase squeezed the stiff fingers he held tightly, wishing he wore his gloves.

‘’Long story short, you are being reassigned.’’

Chief crossed her arms, looking down upon him.

‘’You will be partnered with Agent Argent as her secondary.’’

She paused as if waiting for him to protest, but he knew already that this was the case, keeping silent. He didn’t feel like he had the mental strength to speak out of turn to someone who had taken all his money and knew that he was a mess, literally.

‘’There is no need to turn in your location report and all physical information you have on-person regarding the area is now void. So no need to _burn_ them in a dramatic fashion, they can be disposed of generically.’’

Chase felt his ears perk up at her particular use of the word burn, having to stop himself from pulling a visibly sour face. She seemed to smile lightly, pleased with herself. It was as if she knew, he knew, that she knew. Which was impossible unless Julia suddenly played teacher’s pet. Either way, her tiny smirk told him she was at least aware that her little prod with a single word was enough to signal to him he best watch his step from now on.

‘’Meet Agent Argent at the Bristol International Airport at 11.40 am sharp, gate 24 where you will board a private flight to San Francisco.’’

Chief dropped her tone and expression to one more professional, then awaited his verbal response. Chase felt a hard lump in his throat refuse his want to give a worded answer to seem competent, having to nod enough for her to notice instead.

‘’ACME is still on high alert so watch your demeanour when out in the public eye _especially_ when in ACME uniform.’’

She stated directly. He felt like a teenage school kid being lectured by the principal before a school outing. Being warned not to sully the name of the school with temerarious actions while they bore the school emblem. This all had that same feeling. For a supposedly secret organisation operating in the shadows, their appearance was important.

Chase nodded again, shifting a thumb down into his palm to squeeze into the soft exposed skin.

Chief smiled as if her mission was complete and moved her hands to behind her back, mirroring Chase’s stance before her eyebrows suddenly shot up.

‘’Oh and all-digital funds and accounts are currently being suspended and held until further notice because of the previous security breach, for your own safety. Expect the funds to return in about-‘’

Chief rolled her eyes up as if thinking and hummed lightly, revealing in the almighty situation almost humming merrily.

‘’Hmm, 2-4 months maximum. I’m sure you understand, Agent Devineaux.’’

She smiled with a faux warmth

Chase blinked at her fake reasoning for taking all his money and most likely the next 10 wage payments from him as a ‘safety precaution’. When it was a direct, singular punishment for his royal fuck up in his inability to be a functional adult.

‘’That is all.’’

Chief’s image suddenly disappeared, leaving him in darkness. His eyes produced blotches of wobbly colours all around him from the burning light Chief took with her. The tight pressure he had around his waist loosened, groaning throatily for many reasons. He pulled his hands back around to his front, placing his fingers along the edges of the crumpled receipt that was now warm to the touch.

Chase felt his eyes quickly adjust to the new darkness, the parking lot’s lights softly leaking into the area just enough for him to locate his lifeless pen. Plucking it from the ground, he wiped the dew that had collected on the metal with his fingers lightly, stepping towards the exit of the alleyway.

He slipped it back into his coat’s pocket as he stepped out from the darkness, and into the dimly lit haze of the parking lot. Keeping the receipt in his palm as some solace he proceeded back to the car, lifting his gaze up to see a blue glow illuminating up the car’s front window from a distance. He immediately stopped, his shoulders tensing, knowing exactly what was going on. Chase pressed himself into the wall when trying to back up, his jacket fibres catching on the rough brick. He heard a faint scratching sound, quickly lifting off the wall wincing before the light that radiated from within his destination suddenly disappeared.

Chase stopped retreating, moving a hand to the spot he scrapped on the wall, feeling it to make sure it was still smooth. He picked up his pace once more and sheepishly slinked back to the car. He couldn’t see inside this time like he could when he left, soft drops of rain beginning to fall, so light in substance that they danced weightlessness around in the wind before sticking to the car and himself in a thick fog.

Cracking open the door, he slipped inside and shut it behind him into the dash lit car. Shuffling in his dampened clothes and running a hand over his hair to disperse the water droplets that lay delicately on each strand.

‘’Chief has accepted my proposal.’’

Julia spoke up as Chase tried to manage his newly slightly wet hair. He went to turn his eyes into hers as an acceptance of the incited conversation but decided against it for personal reasons. Opting instead to look out the front window, now speckled with hundreds of tiny water drops, illuminated by the streetlight shining down upon them. They grew with the downpour now increasing, a few droplets breaking their mould from the weight, running down the glass, taking many along with it.

‘’She let me know that she spoke with you too, just before she spoke with me. It was lucky you parted when you did. I must say, I didn’t expect her to be so quick. Although, with the system now back online, things are processed much faster.’’

Chase felt the paper he had stuck into his palm almost throb as if demanding attention. He ignored it.

Julia started the car’s engine, the front wipers clearing their view of the now rainy night.

‘’Were you able to acquaint yourself with the knowledge you require?’’

Julia asked almost too professionally to the point it made chase groan from within. Her question felt patronizingly stiff, causing Chase to droop his lids, knowing he had to answer back. He took a deep breath in and crunched up the small receipt he had in his hand and shoved it into his pant pocket. He arched his back slightly so he could gather his phone and wallet from his back pocket to place them on his lap. Finally, as if giving himself time to think of a suitable answer he clicked on his seatbelt and adjusted its hold around his body, unwittingly accepting a proposition she had yet to afford him.

‘’I am destitute.’’

He stated plainly yet somehow dramatically, keeping his voice as flat as possible, not daring to turn his head to her direction. His hands moved down to his lap, fingers playing with the side of his wallet as an instinctual distraction from the inevitability of what he needed to ask of her. Thankfully, she would do it for him.

‘’Well, your ‘bail’ wasn’t cheap.’’

She breathed out, almost uncharacteristically, before looking over her shoulder as she backed out from the parking spot. This gave Chase a chance to steal a quick look in her vicinity as she focused on rolling out of the parking lot.

‘’I apologise for the harsh punishment. I admit I did not expect her to take such reparations.’’

Her face remained still, perfectly formal despite her nonchalant comment on how costly his transgressions were and the apology attached to the end. Before he could turn away the car stopped, Julia, turning to meet his stare.

‘’You may stay with me if you need.’’

She added, nodding to confirm as if to herself at her offer. Chase swallowed, shifting his eyes away and moved in his seat, visibility uncomfortable.

‘’Thank you.’’

Chase stammered out a whisper, itching the back of his neck to divert attention away from her kindness he clung to like a lifeline. He lent down and picked up his bag he had to rest atop his wet shoes, the soles squeaking and slipping against the plastic protective mat under them.

Julia said nothing in response at that moment and pulled out onto the road, but he could see a placid smile on her lips, her natural state of being.

A well-needed silence occurred during the car ride. The occasional rhythmic click cycle every time she turned a corner forced his limp body to learn to the corresponding side. He had his bag squeezed into his chest absentmindedly, pressing it tight, sharing his warmth as he kept his gaze out his passenger window to the dark rainy streets. His tired eyes faintly reflected at him each time he focused on the glass he lazily glanced out. Every so often having to force himself to refocus on the outside due to the uncomfortable sour face that stared harshly back at him.

Then the car turned once more, coming to a halt. The sound of an automatic window caught his attention, shooting a sideways glance to the source. The strange sense of calmness had been interrupted, his lull in brain activity somehow allowing him to reboot. Julia had her arm out of the car. A small beep was heard as she pulled her arm back in, rubbing her sleeve before winding the window back up. He glared out the dash to see the blaring headlights shining up onto a set of slowly retracting metal gates, a well lit underground car park coming into view.

He had a small fleeting shock of confusion instilled by the absent state he had forced himself into during the ride here. His back throbbed warmly as he slowly sat himself up, not noticing he had slipped down, feeling his jacket bunched up against his lower spine. It was as if he was suddenly conscious again, feeling every ache and pain bouncing off every nerve and muscle as she drove into the lot and parked. 

She turned off the ignition, and the air fell silent. Just the occasional rustle from Julia as she collected her things.

This all suddenly felt like an awful idea, his heart pushing out one enormous thump that caught his breath. He didn’t want to impose, nor did he want to sleep on a wet bench. He knew from experience that the only ‘10 pound’ hotel he could afford right now and possibly find might give him tetanus just by touching a questionable sheet.

His subconscious groaned in agreement that leaving after she drove him here was fruitless and not just because he heard the automatic gate shut in the distance. He could jump a gate. That he could do and do well. But personal interactions that demanded actual traceable responses that weren’t misdirections or vague? That was a concept he continuously distanced himself from. His ego, the one thing that kept him afloat and paid his bills, was gone. It had checked out for rehab about 4 days ago and only now sent in a notice that it wouldn’t be returning for work.

Chase didn’t want to turn to her. He didn’t want to move in fear he would incite polite conversation that would expose that he is a not a well-formed adult human but a strange bag of meat that learned how to speak in the form of insulting remarks, fueled by rage and pettiness.

Julia opened her door and stepped out, her heel clicking against the concrete as confirmation to what he assumed. An icy breeze shoved its way through in replacement of her body, making him look over and accidentally at Julia.

‘’Follow me.’’

She said plainly, still with her head inside the car before retracting back and out of view. Chase grumbled, feeling his cheeks heat against the frigid night air as he opened his door. He went to step out, placing the tip of his shoe to the ground. Still clutching his bag as if it was a part of him when his seatbelt stopped his progression. They say history repeats itself when a lesson is failed to be learned, this instance was no exception.

As if a bird suddenly tangled by fishing wire, he flailed, completely taken by surprise. It burrowed into his neck, choking him slightly, losing his footing outside the car. He gasped lightly and quickly slapped a hand to relieve the light non-consensual strangulation. Whipping it back angrily he stood up ruffled and slammed the car door shut for added justification.

Julia stood with her hands hanging down by her knees, holding a briefcase and file against them as she waited for him. Her eyes were wide when they latched with Chase’s mortified gaze, her own cheeks and nose flushed lightly mostly from the drop in temperature from the car to the outside. That, and she had also witnessed Chase and the debacle that was his inability to exit the car. He could feel his skin continue to burn against the air, clearing his throat to break the silence and dropping his bag from his chest to hang it from his side. He acted as if he meant to do that, trying to be _natural_.

She twisted on the spot as if to pretend that didn’t happen, locking the car and went on her way. Chase embarrassedly fluttered his eyelids, his grunt more of a breathless whimper of frustration contemplating the thought of jumping the gate and exiting the stale situation.

Maintaining a respectable distance, Chase followed, straightening himself up with one hand as their shoes echoed around the tight parking lot. Most of the spots were full, which was normal for private, upscale residential parking.

Before long Julia reached a door and began fiddling with what sounded like keys when he arrived behind her. She unlocked the door and stepped in, holding it back with one arm so Chase could slip inside too. He flattened himself against the wall so she could shut the door herself, taking a quick look up the small flight of stairs above intrigued.

He would be lying if he wasn’t at least the slightest bit interested in seeing what lurked above. It was a natural fleeting feeling everyone had when exposed to in a new place, to explore. Despite his crippling anxiety about entering her habitat.

Suddenly, Julia appeared at the top of the stairs, looking down at him over her shoulder, Chase blinking back into consciousness. Quickly he caught up, somewhat cantering up the stairs as she disappeared before he got to the top himself.

A small, yet spacious, well-lit grey tiled corridor with a single barred glass door and two black elevators awaited him, Julia already at the nearest one. She pressed it once and only once as he stopped to stand behind her, slipping his free hand into his front pant pocket. Instantly having to fight the urge to smash the button two hundred times as their wait dared to span across a few too many seconds. The elevator finally cracked open and they stepped inside. Chase took extra care to be exactly 1 meter away from her shoulder, respectfully. Yet again, Julia placed a careful finger to the button of her choice, the 4 lighting up. The door delayed briefly, causing Chase to yet again want to learn over and hit a fist into the same button impatiently.

The ground beneath them felt as if it dropped away once they finally ascended. There was no elevator music, just the faint hum of the motor that did the climbing to her floor for them.

‘’I do have a spare room but unfortunately not a spare mattress, so I can only offer you the sofa. Is that okay?’’

Julia asked politely. Chase turned her way and nodded.

‘’That’s fine.’’

He answered as mellow as he could. Even when he was being a nuisance by imposing on her space, she still acted as if she had to cater to his misfortune. It confused him almost to the point it humoured him. He was perfectly content with taking whatever scraps she would sprinkle down to him.

The doors opened revealing a grey hallway, Julia stepping out first for him to follow. The area was warm, still and filled with that typical musty carpet smell except for this time slightly more comforting in the clean note that was its signature scent.

They passed 3 other apartments, each marked with a number before she halted in front of the one with a gold 20 stuck upon the black door. She made quick work of the handle, unlocking it and pushing it open and slipped inside, leaving it to swing, a sign that he was welcome to enter.

Chase felt his throat dry and crack as a light popped on from within, particular features of what lay within now visible. This was all just too much. When he was in the elevator this all felt normal. They had ridden in an elevator together before, many times. But this, entering each other’s personal lives made him sick to his core. But it was too late, he was now at her door, looking in and standing there like a servant waiting for his master to allow him to eat the potato peels off the floor in 1653.

Without warning, he forced himself to straighten his slouched back and took a few steps forward and inside. His eyes quickly darted around the room as if looking for traps as he instinctively pulled his bag up to his chest. His frantic gaze fell upon Julia, who stood by a dining table that led to a kitchen. She had placed her case down and had it open, taking a few items out when she met his stare. Placing the last item down that resembled a file, she suddenly approached. Frightfully, Chase felt his body tense as she neared then passed him, hearing the thunk of the door being shut and locked behind him.

‘’The lounge is over there, I will get you a pillow and blanket.’’

Chase’s shoulders jumped up as her voice appeared to his side, just nearing the capacity to his personal space bubble. He clenched his jaw once, realizing his petrified demeanour, and loosened his shoulders.

‘’Okay.’’

He weakly answered, voice a shadow of what it once was. Julia raised a brow and patterned her hands on her sides, pressing her lips together. Then she turned and wandered off down a hall, past the kitchen, disappearing into a room, a light shining out from within.

This was far too much for him to handle. He had never felt so stressed in his life. The last few days had been a disastrous mess of emotional turmoil and mental upset that his brain was far too full to comprehend and navigate this new situation. Chase peeped at the door behind him, tightening the hold he had on his bag and winced. Sadly, he didn’t know where she had put the key and he couldn’t pick locks. He whipped his head back around and scanned the room, focusing on the two slim windows filled with darkness on the parallel wall.

His feet shifted at the thought of going for the window and making his escape that way, swallowing dryly flaring his nostrils.

‘’Devineaux?’’

Chase gasped as Julia’s voice startled him once again. His eyes immediately shot to the place of origin, that being down at a confused Julia holding a pillow and red blanket next to him.

She moved her eyes questioningly up and down before gliding past the man who was dipping deeper into self-induced insanity. Chase watched as she set the items down on the long sofa and turned back to him.

‘’I don’t know how comfortable it is. It came with the apartment. But I think it’s at least long enough for you.’’

Julia commented with a lighter tone, looking over at him before frowning that he still hadn’t moved. Chase took her puzzled frown as a sign that he should probably uproot his stance only 4 steps from her front door and slid over to the living area.

The space was open, the kitchen, dining and lounge area all flowing as one. Julia had only turned the set of kitchen lights on as they were strong enough to reach all areas even if the light weakened off by the lounge. Chase shuffled onto the carpeted area beside the sofa he would use for the night, maintaining a distance from his host.

Julia removed the display cushions from the long seat, placing them on the small one-seater to the side, the fabric of each filled with that new, untouched clean smell as if just unwrapped from a plastic protective coating.

He thought back to what she noted earlier, how Chief had sent her to Bristol, back ‘home’. Her slightly nippy comment on how she was from Mayfair raised a question within his mind. Chase was aware, not by choice, that she actually lived in Poitiers, like he did, for many years. Chief sending her ‘back’ to Bristol instead of Poitiers was directly opposite to what Chief set out to do. What perplexed him the most is why she didn’t speak up right away, she obviously appeared pressed about it.

‘’I’ve had a, _long_ , day. And I’m sure you have too.’’

Julia twisted her wrist to view her watch. Her voice was lower than expected.

‘’And tomorrow will follow suit.’’

She briefly locked eyes, trying to convey that she wished to part ways for the night as she moved. Julia went to exit the living room, stopping by a small table that held a lamp, flicking it on for him.

‘’The switch for the kitchen is on the wall by the fridge and the bathroom is down the hall, first door on the right. Once I am done, you may use it if you need.’’

Chase felt his brain cut itself from his spinal cord and flip over in his skull, stopping himself from screaming **NO** to her polite sharing of her accommodations with him. Instead, with all his years of minimal preparation on how to act like an adult, he swallowed, cleared his throat and prepared his rebuttal:

‘’Thank you.’’

He murmured as if just winded horribly. He was getting superb at these ‘Thank yous’. That being the only thought that ran through his mind to distract himself from the sharing of utilities, even though he mentally refused her offer.

She nodded in acceptance, smiled gently and turned away.

He stood and waited until her footsteps were no longer in earshot before letting himself relax his hold on his bag, glancing down at the perfectly placed folded blanket with a grey pillow on top.

The handle of his bag hung over his fingers as he dropped it beside the pile of linen as the rain suddenly picked up, roaring almost. He sighed, knowing it was now practically impossible to escape out the window in such horrible weather.

* * *

For while he just sat perched on the edge of the sofa, playing with the now crumpled receipt, listening to the wind and rain batter against the windows in the living room. His fingers were still cold and paler than normal, occasionally glancing down at his phone for the time.

At some, point he swore he heard the water turn on, resembling that of a shower, making him want to have one himself. But he quickly snubbed out that notion when knowing if he wanted to do it, he would have to in _her_ shower, and that would not happen. Half because he wanted to impose no further and the other half because it made him feel incredibly cramped.

The water soon switched off, Chase taking the leap by daring to lean back into the couch and sliding his feet out as he slouched. He was tired. The souls of his feet throbbing along with his eyes. At least he wasn’t hungry. All he wanted to do was smoke, but what wasn’t particularly deferential behaviour in someone else’s home. He was also out of mints.

Chase pepped himself up into changing his shirt for the only other one he really had that was comfortable to sleep in. He certainly wasn’t going shirtless in this case. After that was a success, he removed his belt, and even his shoes. All of this feeling unlawfully weird as he glanced back over the sofa to the corridor where a soft glow illuminated from under a door. It spread out into the dark hallway, knowing it was her bedroom. He was petrified she would suddenly appear when he wasn’t presentable. Chase had his fill for the next month on private interactions.

Once he touched the items given to him to sleep with, he toyed with the notion of using the bathroom to at least wash his face and brush his teeth, immediately shutting that down. Although that didn’t stop the deep desire he already threw into motion. Luckily, he used his peripheral vision and connected the dots and noticed the kitchen and the sink that hid within. Checking his surroundings one last time, he inched off the couch, toothbrush and toothpaste in hand, and tiptoed to the kitchen.

It was excruciatingly bright and spotless. The area looked as if it was unused, which wasn’t a farfetched thought considering the entire place looked as if it was still unmoved from its initial staging. Not that he was one to judge. The place was still far more full with items than his ever was.

He rolled up his sleeves and ran the water until it went hot, turning the cold tap on so he didn’t burn his face like he did his hands. Chase splashed it up and onto his face, rubbing it in, especially into his eye sockets, almost moaning at how nice it would be to shower properly. He repeated the process a few times and ended up holding his hands to his face, pressing his fingertips into his temples for relief. Uncontrollably, he ran his wet hands through his hair a few times, making a slight water mess on the spotless counter.

Chase leaned his elbows into the side of the sink, sliding his hands down his cheeks, pulling down the skin with it. Water ran down his arms and soaked his rolled sleeves that bunched at his bicep. He stopped the water and stood straight, lifting his shirt to his face to pat it dry. With a fresh sense of purpose, he grabbed his toothpaste and brush he brought with him, instinctively looking the tube over. He frowned.

Since the incident in which he had thought about very little, he always double-checked his toothpaste. It was just something he now did, but he never fully stopped to brood over it. He knew why, basically, but didn’t pause long enough to think back to that moment and the series of downhill events that followed.

Chase felt his body go cold with a shiver, his lower legs numb when he recalled it, rubbing a thumb over the back label, free from a VILE insignia. VILE had already found him inside his home and taken him once, and now Chief was banking on that happening again. He didn’t know how they had found him, but it didn’t really matter. It showed that they had the power to find you even if your identity was concealed.

He popped the lid and squeezed a generous amount on, sticking it into his mouth dry and brushing furiously. He leaned down over the sink, splaying a hand out into the countertop beside it, shoulder up into his neck as he scrubbed his teeth with a preoccupied scowl.

The entire event seemed like a blur. He remembered the people who took him, a helmet, a splitting headache, seeing Carmen Sandiego then waking up in the hospital. That was about it. Chase dug his fingertips into the counter, the skin under his nails turning red from the pressure as his back seized up from his thoughts.

Then She fired him after squeezing what they needed out of him. It was a series of affairs that had eerily played out similarly before, ironically enough. He wasn’t even angry when she told him he wasn’t to return. The only thing that occupied the space between the empty void between his lungs and stomach was misery. At least they paid for all his medical bills that time. Although, that would never happen again.

‘’You can use-‘’

A sudden voice beside him whacked him out of his mid-thought, violent tooth-brushing trance causing him to suddenly breath in. Normally this would be okay, but Chase had a mouth full of foamy spit and immediately gagged and coughed. Julia had magically appeared next to him, unnoticed until she spoke softly beside him, cut off by Chase beginning to heave and spit into the sink because she scared the absolute shit out of him.

Feeling his eyes water and his throat burn he slapped the tap on and forced water into his mouth and around his lips, dropping his toothbrush into the sink. He coughed into his hands a few times before feeling the urge to gag subsided. Carefully he rose, grabbing his toothbrush and turning off the tap. His sleeve had thankfully rolled down allowing him to press his arm over his mouth, turning to Julia who stood clutching an empty bottle to her chest utterly bewildered.

She turned her wide eyes away as Chase felt the last remaining scraps of his dignity evaporate, silence between them.

‘’I have a bathroom you can use.’’

Julia spoke up as Chase quickly retorted back.

‘’ **I know**.’’

He quipped in a high-pitched tone than usual, defensive in relation to what just befall.

Chase moved his forearm away from his mouth and pressed his fingers into his neck, his throat chafed.

Julia let out a sigh and pursed her lips, raising the empty bottle she cradled a little.

‘’Can I fill my bottle?’’

She asked but didn’t really ask, Chase immediately stepping back from the messy kitchen sink allowing her access. He turned away as she filled her bottle, blinking part from the throbbing pain in his throat and the rest out of sheer embarrassment. The water stopped running and she spoke again.

‘’You still have the cuff on your wrist?’’

She prodded. Chase turned back as Julia twisted the lid back onto her bottle, poking a free finger questioningly at the wrist dangling down by his waist. He gasped lightly as he had honestly forgotten it was still there; it had become a part of him. Failing to recall that she knew all about it and that he had told and shown it to her before, he lied, still embarrassed about getting half arrested.

‘’It’s a bracelet.’’

He snapped back with a guttural voice. Julia turned her head to the side and ignored his lie but was clearly intrigued with the fact he would rather it be a bracelet than half a cuff.

‘’I did the paperwork that secured the payment for your bail clearing Chase.’’

Julia emphasised as she reminded him, adding on a personal touch at the end with the use of his first name. Strangely enough, her use of his name made the angry reminder of his new peasant status easier to swallow. He could just walk away right then and there but he remained planted, not sure on what to say back.

‘’It should really be removed before tomorrow.’’

Julia expounded precisely, tucking her bottle under her arm and digging a hand into her tracksuit pocket.

Until now, he hadn’t noticed, well, _her_ , he was too busy being flustered after choking for the second time today. She wore a light grey slouchy jumper with a large open neck and black striped tracksuit pants along with her original glasses. It was weird to see her normally dressed, more than the first time.

Julia pulled out her ACME pen and twisted the end where the tip normally extended from, clicking a few times before she pressed the thruster. She stepped forward and stretched her arm out to him with the pen ready.

Instead of a normal ballpoint tip, there was a flathead screwdriver. Chase crossed his brows as he accepted the ‘pen’ unsure on a few things but something unrelated to their situation the most.

‘’You carry your pen around everywhere?’’

He queried. Julia, taken aback, made a hard-to-place-what-it-meant face.

‘’ _Yes?_ ‘’

She contended, frowning. Chase cocked a brow in judgement as he looked down at the tool which he assumed was for removing the cuff. He knew that a simple screwdriver can’t release the bolts on a cuff and rolled it around in his hands unsure.

‘’You are in no position to judge me, considering the continuing _theme_ for everything you did for the past few days was ‘crime’.’’

Julia taunted back. Chase looked up with a surprised grimace to her comment that seemed to leave her lips so naturally. He would have fired back, but she was already snatching the pen from his grasp and grabbed his wrist which shocked him more.

‘’The end heats to 1510 degrees celsius and is pre-contained to ensure when used against steel it does not flame upon heating.’’

Julia explained, already distancing herself from the insult she threw at him seconds before like it never happened. She grabbed the cuff and shifted it around his wrist until she found the joint and held down the clicker, pressing the tip into the metal.

Within seconds, the end melted into the metal until it split dramatically open, Chase finally free, Julia retracting perfectly back in time before catching his skin. She held it weakly in her hand, most of it resting now in Chase's palm. She let go. Amazed, he tapped a finger to the still-hot deformed joint. Already forgetting the invasion of his personal space seconds before by Julia and softened his face despite the flash of burning heat against his thumb.

‘’Did you not read the ACME Communicator Pen handbook? It came with the informational package that I assume you received as well?’’

Chase looked back up at Julia who continued to give him the benefit of the doubt, not because she was naïve but because she refused to think completely ill of anyone. He mumbled incoherently back, showing that, of course,he didn’t. He remembered distinctly placing on the kitchen counter and never touching it again until transporting it to his storage unit. He now kind of understood why she kept her pen on her even when in sleepwear.

He handed it over where she immediately switched it back to a normal pen stashing it into her pocket. Chase pressed a thumb over the still warm joint of the cuff as Julia pulled a cloth off a towel rack under the sink. She placed it on top of what he knew to be the water mess, cleaning up herself. Taking a quick glance down at his shirt, he noticed it was patched with darker spots. He resembled more of a toddler than a fully grown adult with his wet sleeves. It wasn’t her job to clean up his mess, especially once he made in her own home.

A small twinge of guilt squeezed in his chest, making him reach out the hand that still held his toothbrush.

‘’I, I can do that.’’

Chase muttered with a sigh, placing his toothbrush and broken cuff down on a dry spot away from the sink. He grabbed the end of the tea towel that was furthest away from her hand as a confirmation that he would do the rest. Julia kept her grip but paused before relenting and accepting his gesture. She moved away from the sink, allowing Chase to resume wiping up the mess.

‘’Thank you. Goodnight Chase.’’

She finalised warmly. Chase made an odd face and nodded in place of words. He didn’t see her face as she walked away, only hearing the faint muffled scrape of whatever shoes or slippers she was wearing.

‘’Is this a normal thing for you?’’

Her voice chimed off as Julia stopped her shuffle out of the kitchen, now more in the entrance to the hallway but not out of sight. Chase glanced up, confused by her statement with a questioning frown to see her pointing a finger at him up and down, gesturing at his appearance.

‘’To, douse yourself in water every time you brush your teeth?’’

The tiniest smile curled the corner of her lips and if it wasn’t for Chase’s good vision, you wouldn’t have been able to see it without a microscope. Recognising her jesting comment, Chase met her with his version of the same expression, feeling that anxious cloud that hung over his head dissipate just a little.

‘’Only when I’m left unsupervised.’’

Julia nodded, the corners of her eyes slimming ever so slightly as she huffed in amusement, pleased with his self-aware answer and turned away, disappearing into the darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me try and not take a whole month next time hey?. Once again, Thank you for reading. I appreciate any forms of support if you are willing to throw it my way, tell me in the comments your thoughts. I love to hear your opinions. :)


	12. Lèse-majesté

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said in the last chapter's authors note I wouldn't have such a long wait in between this chapter and the last, but I lied. Well, it is here now! Thank you dudes for waiting. Those who are even still around at this point.

### Chapter 12

Due to the winter season, the sun rose dimly later in the morning, just enough to wake him up. Since the curtains were left open that night, coupled with a numbing pain in his right arm that made his hand feel like a dead appendage, Chase awoke relatively calm. In a style that was becoming a regular occurrence, he had no recollection of how he fell asleep. Assuming how he was only half on the couch caused him to presume he was sitting up when he passed out.

His throat felt dry, cracked, signalling that he was definitely snoring. His shoulders ached with regret for not properly sending himself to bed, something he really needed. Not only that, but he was freezing. His nose and fingertips reddened, his skin hot to the touch as if fake compensation for the absence of actual heat surrounding him. Even if everything else throbbed from a poor postured sleep, his eyes didn’t sting for the first time in a while.

Chase dressed completely in his suit attire and reorganised the area Julia graciously gave him to rest in, the entire time planning to head to the airport right away. Unfortunately, with low funds and the fact that Julia locked the door, Chase didn’t want to fumble around in her things to unlock it, complicating his plan. Opting instead, with little choice, that Julia’s assistance was once again a requirement.

It wasn’t long before Julia appeared in befitting attire. As a good hostess, she offered him refreshments, food and a typical morning beverage. Chase, in typical Chase fashion, turned such pleasantries down with less awkwardness this time around. Despite this, Julia still prepared a glass of water for his consumption, which was accepted with minimal hesitation.

All of this was still uncharted territory, but Julia’s constant professional mannerisms made it all a lot easier to wade through.

Julia quickly made it clear that they would be unable to depart to the airport as a unit, giving Chase an adequate donation to purchase a taxi ride to the location. His pride fought tooth and nail to refuse the handout, but his ego had checked out and was unable to help in the battle, accepting it wordlessly.

He assumed, once out of her company, that his accepting taciturnity followed by a stronger ‘thank-you’ than his last would have been the catalyst for the ‘keep the change’ comment from Julia as she freed him from her apartment. It was definitely said with pure kindness and sincerity. Chase wrongly categorized her comment as a sour-tasting snark as he crunched the two bills into his fist, and quickly into his pocket. A deep-seated embarrassment and self-inflicted shame from needing other’s assistance lurked around every conversational corner. Unnecessarily using his pride as a human shield every time.

Leaving her apartment in the early morning felt worse than any of the one-night stands he’d endured over his lifetime. Sure, they were one in a few and one time, even with a co-worker he hated just a little less than the rest. The want to sprint as far away from the location was even stronger here than during times where it felt necessary to avoid tangling his personal and professional life. Especially since the man’s apartment he meekly slunk from at 3.46 am was that of a rival. It was a large part of why he didn’t like to mix the two.

The airport was busy, as expected, crossing his ankle atop his knee, bouncing it impatiently. The sleep he apparently got but couldn’t recall must have been good because he didn’t feel as horrid as he had prior. He had also used the last of his ‘allowance’ handed to him by dutiful hands to buy himself a coffee, food and of course some mints.

He kept his gaze at the escalators that slowly descended from the top floor, crossing his arms tightly, awaiting to see Julia appear into view atop at the allotted time. Which wouldn’t be long. Chase was early because he simply had nowhere else meaningful to be, Julia would be appropriately punctual by good principle.

He couldn’t help but feel abnormal. For so long now he had always felt unhinged, dipping into different realms of consciousness day by day. As if constantly tip-toeing on a sharp spike atop a tall building always swaying. Varying gusts of wind on either side forcing him gradually one way then the other, but never strong enough to blow him off. He was still there, a top that tower on that tiny spike. Except there was no wind, just standing there, still. Safe of sorts, but not really.

Maybe it was the newfound stability in his actual employment or the permanent babysitter that was to be permanently attached to his hip until stated otherwise, reminding him that he is in reality. It’s hard to go off in an unscheduled tangent when someone has an invisible rope around your waist tugging you back into normality. This wasn’t a bad thing, nor was it her job to keep him grounded. A fact he was aware of, adding to the remorse he felt for perpetuating an image of a person who needs to be monitored. He was an adult, he could watch himself.

''Have you checked in?''

Chase felt his shoulders instinctively tighten at the voice above him, refocusing his eyes from mild daydreaming to Julia standing beside where he slouched. He shuffled himself up, and placed two feet to the tiled floor, clearing his throat and nodding in response.

Julia flicked her wrist to view her watch.

''Then let us depart, promptly.''

She stepped to the side, her heel-clicking, urging for him to follow, holding a reasonably sized silver suitcase at her knees. He obliged, scooping his duffle bag from the seat beside him and proceeded.

This wasn’t the first time that he’d enjoyed the luxury of a private trip with ACME resources. The absence of an inaudible murmuring noise and the faint smell of urine mixed with bleach-based disinfectant, a sign of the public, would not be missed. The plane was spacious, luxurious, quiet, clean and most importantly, devoid of aggravating strangers. The only other person who occupied the space was Julia, who rhythmically tapped away at her laptop, typing who knows what at the other end of the plane. He kept his gaze off Julia during most of the trip, the only other thing in the space. Trying to enjoy the serenity of first-class air travel and constant keyboard clicks that strangely soothed his inability to properly sit still. The calmness of the enclosed air, like a weighted blanket over his inner being, made him slip further into his seat. He still tapped his foot, vibrating it to a point where it felt like it had become one with the matter that surrounded it.

It would be a full and blatant lie if he told himself or others he wasn’t nervous for various reasons. For the past 2 months, he had been ‘cruising’. Barely using his brain at a low cognitive level. The most brain activity he’d had in a long while had all condensed into 4 days. A lot of that he admittedly spent what you would call, aloof.

Regardless of what this was all amounted to, his purpose and his role. Chase still felt a thin wire prodding him in the lower back, right into his spine. Keeping his body moving with his hope that redemption, recognition and justice were on the horizon and possible. Optimism still lurking amidst the chaos. All personified in the small shaking of his foot that sat above his knee, more numb than ever, keeping his sense of actualism alive. Clinging onto the murky future he would attempt to alter. He had one life, and that was it. And in his mind, it wasn’t over just yet.

Once the descent Into San Francisco had begun, it all came to an end. Time had stood still while they were in the air, and now everything sped up. It was as if the second he allowed optimism to take the forefront, life kicked him out the emergency exit as if it had been waiting for him to hurry and stop loitering in the waiting room between giving up and moving forward.

Julia had suddenly prepared herself, Chase still only half in reality, scrambling to catch up. Before long they were out of the cabin and in a whole different country.

It was late afternoon when they arrived, the sunset and cool evening breeze welcoming them briefly. A taxi promptly hailed the moment he exited the complex, Chase just simply following along behind his superior, Julia, who almost escorted him.

They didn’t interact much apart from the occasional glance to ensure they were on the same page. Julia appeared confident in her new role as the de facto leader of their duo, not once batting an eye his way when they entered the hotel lobby.

Their rooms were separate, thankfully, but next to one another. Julia made a quiet comment that they were now officially being monitored 24/7 by ACME when she handed him his room key. Her words were minimal, but her eye contact said enough to convey what she meant by that. They had entered an agreement previously that could be troublesome to ACME, to Chief. So discretion was advised through the small interaction. Chase was glad that Julia was at least trying to keep things under wraps for now. Her constant push in a different direction wasn’t getting her anywhere. All it did was attach her name to any mistake that could fall under the banner she had marled herself with. That being Carmen’s silent ally. It was a less than a popular position at the time and was now flat out a statement of treason.

Once they reached their doors, he waited for what felt like more orders from her, swiping his room key to unlock his door. Julia did the same and turned to him.

''I’ll let you know when more information arrives.''

And slipped into her room, leaving Chase in the hallway, alone. Her door shut softly seconds later, relocking itself securely. Unsatisfied with the lack thereof information as to why they were even here, grumpily swinging open his door and letting it shut behind him.

Chase slapped on the lights to the entire open-plan room. From the moment he walked through the full glass doors into the foyer, he understood just how shunned he had been before. His room was immaculate, at least compared to the standards he was previously used to.

The room was split into two sections; bed area and lounge area. A deep red carpet separated the two spaces, the colour a dominant feature of the room entirely. Every item had an accent of blood red. Painfully ironic. There was a large flat screen tv on the feature wall, visible at any angle, reflecting the entire room back at him as he walked past. Everything was held together by a huge floor to ceiling curtain stretched along the entirety of the adjacent window wall, closed, shielding him from the dusk skyline view awaiting outside.

He dropped his bag onto the bed, slipping off his jacket from a hard day's work of sitting around and deciphering every thought he had instead of leaving them to rot in the back of his mind. He went to drop it on the bed, but stopped and pressed his thumb into the seam of each shoulder. Chase felt his nostrils flare, taking a sharp breath in, then letting it go as he stretched out his arms, holding it up. He folded it across itself and tucked it neatly in, placing the folded jacket down onto the edge of the bed. It wasn’t the suit who patronised him, so he wouldn’t punish it for being just a product of his ongoing mockery.

Loosening his tie, he turned back to inspect the room, knowing exactly what he was looking for. The minibar fridge almost sparkled where it sat next to the cabinet beneath the TV, nestled into the wall. He could practically hear its cooling fan whirr from here. He pulled his tie off with his thumb, leaving it on the bed, loosening his collar into a relaxed fashion on his way to the fridge.

The little door opened, revealing a crystal white scene insides, full to the brim with miniature bottles of alcohol lined inside. He smiled, genuinely. That specific muscle movement sending a wave of much-needed serotonin throughout his body. Chase didn’t care if half of it was schnapps, he would make do, plucking one off the shelf as a knock rattled the door.

He turned his eyes over the couch and to the top half of the door as he knelt on the floor, leaning his body weight on the tiny door. He hoped it was just his imagination reacting to the sudden influx of happiness he felt at complimentary alcohol when he heard it again.  
Chase groaned and turned to gaze back into the fridge, taking the necks of a few bottles between his fingers and standing, smacking the door shut, causing it to shake in his sudden drop from the clouds. He placed all but one down onto the coffee table and cracked the seal of the other as he made his way to the door. Tilting it up as he pressed it to his lips, he gulped the single-serve down, the liquid almost missing his tongue entirely. The flavour made Chase stop and wince, letting out a small cough. He looked down at the bottle in disgust.

''Peach-mint? Ugh.''

Chase mumbled to himself, smacking his lips as he opened the door a crack, leaning his shoulder on the newly freed frame, poking his head out just enough. Julia stood in the hall holding a stack of books in her arms as one does professionally. Chase squashed the door closed against his jaw and frowned at them, before finally looking up into Julia’s gaze.

''I would like you to read this.''

Julia lifted a dark navy book off the small pile in her arms and handed it to Chase’s head that stuck out of the door oddly. Reluctant in all meanings of the word, Chase creaked opened the door further to slide an arm through and accepted it. Julia let her side go, the weight straining his wrist enough for his hand to dip, turning the book into his body to read the shifting silver title.

**Agency to Classify and Monitor Evildoers (A.C.M.E) Handbook**

Chase felt his whole soul leave his body and sink down through the floor and straight into hell. A place where if the idea of an afterlife did indeed exist, in his opinion, that’s where he’d end up. He let the door go to grab the edges of the book with both hands, ready to hand it back as the door swung open. He didn’t read it the first time they gave it to him, and he wasn’t about to do it now.

He opened his mouth to protest the reading material when Julia silently invited herself in, gliding past the opened door. Chase shut his mouth and clenched his teeth as he watched her stride to the coffee table. He clutched the book in one hand, the same one that held the empty bottle as she seemed to sort through the materials she had with her. Chase pressed his free hand around his neck, his cold palm warming to the skin on his neck, rubbing his hand down to his collarbone, thoroughly annoyed. Wanting to stop anyone else wandering in unannounced, he pushed the door shut.

''I’m not reading this.''

He protested confidently, moving towards where she stood, handing the book back sternly. Julia didn’t react and instead placed the rest of the books down on the table from a distance to let them hit the glass with a thud. A little more dramatic than he was expecting, which caught him off guard.

''Just because the contents of the fridge are complimentary, doesn’t mean you may incapacitate yourself by tomorrow morning.''

Julia commented disapprovingly, her voice unyielding and lacking its usual soft tone. Chase frowned at this development, wanting to snap back but instantly becoming distracted by the heaviness of the book, having to grasp it with both hands once again.

''I know you didn’t read it the first time and I would, _prefer it_ , if you would attempt to at least skim, the primary guide.''

Julia crossed her arms. Her sternness was unsettling, but it worked in catching his breath. Part of him wanted to fight back, but the other, his conscience, told him to not stoke this fire. After all, she was right. He didn’t read it, and he probably should. Despite wanting to shove the tiny bottle in his hands down his larynx rather than read useless orientational drivel. Instantly refusing her orders on the first day of their new partnership went against his core belief of servitude to a superior and was not a good move on his part. He found himself compelled to oblige. There were certain times where he hated authority and would rather ignore it. But this wasn’t the case.

Defeated and rather deflated, he glanced down at the book in his hand, then at the stack now on the coffee table, ignoring Julia as his way of retaliation. He sauntered around the arm of the couch, sitting down heavily.

Chase placed the empty bottle onto the table, feeling her disapproving aura from where she stood as he did so.

''A location has been sent, indicating where we are expected to meet other Agents tomorrow.''

Her voice had returned to normal, Chase opting to not react to the information knowing that prying would cause further conversation as if that made it any easier to digest. He skimmed down the subheadings until one made him scoff to himself lightly, forgetting that he wasn’t alone.

The heading, _‘Teamwork and Partnerships’_ stood out. He smiled at it jokingly, before feeling that smile fade, shifting his jaw around in thought. This book felt patronising in its entirety just by existing, but he had to give it credit for prompting a thought he had not even considered. And to him, it was now vitally important he got an answer.

''What is your plan?''

He said without looking up, knowing she was still close by. He could feel her looming presence to his side by the low glass table like a cold draft felt on an early morning against your bed warmed skin. The question wasn’t intended to be aggressive or condescending. But the way it rumbled from his throat in such a deep, nonchalant way made it feel as if it was exactly that, a threat. He could not improve the way it came out, at least he didn’t improve it. He wanted an answer, for he was genuinely fascinated as to how she would go about being ‘the bridge between Carmen Sandiego and ACME’. She had made him join her cause with just her thesis statement and had yet to explain her true plan, as well as base level blackmail and guilt-tripping. Saying what you wanted to do and how you would do it were two different things.

Chase waited for a little, even flipping the page to view the rest of the index when she spoke up.

''I’ll talk to her, Carmen Sandiego. The next chance I get.''

She seemed confident in her answer, understanding what he was referring to without explanation. It was an answer Chase did not like, finding it insultingly vague and unoriginal for someone so copious with their intelligence.

''That’s based on the assumption she’ll even let you that close to her again? That you can even track her down?''

Chase dug his nail halfway into the thin pages of the book and split it open, flicking through until he hit the page headed with the topic he pursued. He couldn’t comprehend her naivety. One could even go as far as to say it surprised him, especially in someone who portrayed themselves as an individual so calculated. Her optimism was misplaced.

''You can’t surely expect a clean slate.''

He sat up, straightening his back, causing his words to stretch along with him as if uncaring about the judgment he was dealing out. He wanted his words to have a bite to them, his kill or be killed mentality on full display.

''I’m confident I can re-establish a connection, separate from ACME.''

Julia affirmed this time without the strength she had before. Chase looked over the words, not really feeling them sink in, more engrossed in his internal dialogue ready to critique the lack thereof new information.

''With what?''

He questioned accusingly. This time turning his gaze up to her. She met his glare, the air stale between them. Chase wanted her to admit that she wasn’t sure, rather than a full confrontation. The moment she left silence between her first answer signalled that she didn't know how to proceed, and she knew that he was aware of the doubt too.

A burn ached its way up his throat, his body wanting him to press further, his incurable need to be victorious almost blurting out. The only thing that kept it down was the deep pit of guilt, and her stern but unsure gaze pressing down upon him.

Julia had her fingers digging into the back of the one-seater couch she stood behind, her shoulders were ever so slightly up and her knuckles were white. His brain ticked between modes at the site, swallowing that fighting urge down and turned away, shutting the book and tossing it onto the table. It was all so unnecessary.

He had regressed to his hostile state within days, moments even, having already attempted to bite off her head for egotistical reasons. He was going about it all the wrong way, as usual, and for no reason other than to incite panic in someone he had no real gripe with other than an ongoing fit of jealousy. His issue was not with her, but with himself and his existence around her.

''She trusted me before. There is no reason I can’t foster that once again. I just need to explain myself.''

Julia reiterated what she had already said before. Chase shifted back down into his seat, covering his mouth with his hand, before moving it behind his neck then back to his mouth rhythmically, soothing himself. Silence fell between them as it was realistically Chase’s turn to rebuff her statement, instead of feeling his chin with the tips of his fingers, hair already growing to an annoying length.

''I’m sure _we_ , can.''

She insisted as if hoping that the addition of a ‘we’ would ease the situation. That failing as a unit was more appealing. He could see and recognise where she was going, what she was trying to do. Enlisting him to be a part of her indecision. So he would play on that, he couldn’t not when she set it up so easily.

''There is no way she will listen to, _us_.''

Chase inferred, unintentionally mocking the ‘us’ with his general tone.

''With just words alone.''

He concluded. Julia shifted her gaze away and blinked, thinking. Chase pouted, not expecting her to take his hostility with a grain of salt or even classing it as advice. She loosened her grip on the couch, moved so she stood in front of it. Perplexed, he watched with his arms now crossed as she sat down on the seat with perfect posture. She took a deep breath in and smoothed out the already crinkle-free skirt across her knees like she was putting off what she was about to say, turning her eyes up and into his.

''Then what do you suggest?''

Julia asked, seriously. Taken aback, Chase lifted his foot up and balanced his ankle atop his knee. The question felt like a trap to humiliate himself, but couldn’t stop the need to oblige her inquisition. It was his fault for peppering in that ‘us’. Honestly, he wasn’t sure himself. But if he was to treat Carmen Sandiego still as a criminal, then a solution he could provide was easier to grasp.

''Carmen Sandiego stole information from ACME, correct?''

Chase compiled his thoughts and tried to connect his current ones to others pushed around the side of his mind to a time before, when he was an actual detective.

''Just offer her what she didn’t get.''

He stated plainly.

''That’s if you can even get close to her.''

Chase shrugged to disassociate himself from appearing to care about the cause Julia pursued. She hardly reacted, only looking down and crossing her own arms, so he continued, thinking his point was not clear.

''Carmen Sandiego is a criminal.''

Julia’s gaze refocused suddenly, ready to protest his statement instantly. Chase lifted his shoulders in rebuttal, correcting his previous statement to one Julia would be more willing to accept, halfheartedly.

'' _Technically_.''

He added.

''So you treat her as such.''

Julia still didn’t like what he was saying, his ‘softening the blow’ word choice being pitifully weak, but he continued with a scowl from her in his side view.

''For example: If I was to apprehend a criminal, one known to be a participant of a gang, or have connections and such to an ongoing higher-level investigation. I would leverage them a deal for partial or full immunity to certain crimes for whatever useful information they can provide.''

He explained, eloquently for the first time in a while, using his prior knowledge and experience to guide his thoughts.

''We do the same for Carmen Sandiego. Except, we offer ACME information for her cooperation. Whatever else that entails.''

Chase raised his brows, even pleased at himself with coming up with such a decent idea that wasn’t interrupted. But that feeling of a good job didn’t last, with a certain detail popping up into his mind.

''That, of course, is also _technically_ treason. So an illegal option.''

He inferred, more with himself than Julia, who listened harder than he expected with a serious pout.

''Treason is a matter of perspective. Its purpose isn’t always negative and only really affects a conglomerate who controls the information and not those around it.''

Julia emphasized, catching Chase’s attention after a moment had passed. It appeared she was considering his idea. That alone was surprising enough. Julia had gazed away, thinking seriously about what she had just said. He was concerned but far more fascinated at her dismissal of committing treason for the ‘greater good’.

''Don’t, _rationalise_ treason.''

He belaboured, utterly taken aback at her abrupt defending statement on committing a life-ruining crime in hopes to prove that your right. He would even go as far as to say a twinge of admiration fluttered through his perception when her awkward glance met his frown.

She turned back, opening her mouth to speak, taken aback. Julia pressed her hands into her legs, sinking her neck into her shoulders.

''I’m not. It's just a fact.''

Julia said defensively, crossing her arm to seal her answer. Chase didn’t buy it, rubbing his thumb and forefinger into his temple, before pressing them into his closed eyelids. Without words, he expressed his consternation.

''You are not constrained to help me if it brings you such contempt.''

She commented in reaction, upset slightly that he wasn’t super excited by his own idea. He didn’t respond, leaning forward from the couch, placing an elbow into his knee. Chase held his head up with his hand, fitting it around his neck facing her direction, keeping his eyes from looking into hers.

''There will be no treason.''

Julia offered quietly, a white lie if anything. Chase knew that Julia was adamant in her quest to avenge the ‘trust’ lost between them and hopefully gain a better understanding of her purpose. Suddenly the blurry figure of Julia stood, forcing his eyes to centre on her movement.

''Thank you for your advice, it was helpful.''

She smiled, leaning over the table to straighten the book Chase had pursued through earlier, with a single push from her finger. Her appreciative utterance felt as if it had been dipped in sarcasm despite being devoid of it. Unsure if he should scoff or slap a ‘you’re welcome’ to his already fleeting patience. Thankfully, the small reassuring voice in the back of his head spoke loud enough this time for him to keep his mouth shut

Julia’s visage receded from his view. Her steps muffled by the carpet as she most likely headed to the door.

There was little chance they would be able to ‘meet’ with Carmen Sandiego anytime soon. Based upon what he was told by Julia and researched himself, Carmen had ‘disappeared’ in the last few months or at least no longer announced herself to the scene before a robbery. VILE had also taken a back seat on their major activity. Suspiciously coinciding with Sandiego’s slink into the shadows. That thought of such dubious a coincidence between the two parties was one he would not share with Julia. It would only serve to pick at the rotting thread between them.

A new small flutter of consternation to committing treason was the key thing on his mind. If he knew anything, it was that Julia’s quick acceptance of his idea meant she was desperate. It was the first idea he’d ever had that she didn't rebuff or question politely. And that worried him. Chase liked the idea of supplying Carmen Sandiego and her ‘team’ with information in trade for cooperation and such back, just in small increments and heavily filtered. His primary fear was Julia giving away too much in her trustful nature. Her lack thereof reluctance to help someone charged with vicarious international crimes could be sensed from a mile away. Along with another strange tenor whenever the woman's name was brought up in a conversation. From what he knew, Miss Argent was very willing to divulge more than what was needed to gain, then maintain a connection. It worried him a little.

''If you do meet her again, you can’t give her access to the entire ACME database just because she _smiles_ at you.''

Chase commented, still mostly in thought, feeling a little dejected from overthinking things. Julia’s movements appeared to halter as the room fell silent after his satirized comment. He waited for something back, expecting it by now, crossing his brows. He squeezed his fingers into his neck disquieted, turning to where he thought her to be, heading for the door, unsettled by the silence he somehow manifested. He turned himself fully around and looked over the back of the couch with a convoluted frown at Julia, who stood unnaturally frozen by the door.

Her cheeks blushed red, mouth agape as she clutched the handle, stricken with a distressed, surprised look. The site was puzzling, completely not what he thought from a frivolous interjection. She was gazing intently into the door before her eyes jotted around and locked onto his, making her launch into action.

''Good night Mr Devineaux.''

Julia spluttered out as she pressed herself into the door, forcing herself out with perfectly straight posture. The door closed behind her, taking whatever uneasy atmosphere she exuded the second he noticed her fraught presence.

Chase turned back and looked down at the couch, then back across the table to the stack of books left behind for him, whole-heartedly mystified. He was sure what he said wasn’t too bad or horrible to hear. Either way, it demoted him back down to ‘Mr Devineaux’ which was the actual crime of the evening. His fingers found their way to his lips, feeling their warmth cool against them as he wrapped his brain around what he witnessed.

He pondered it for a moment before his gaze drifted to the assortment of bottles at the other end of the coffee table. Trying to ignore his acumen screaming for answers to what just occurred, he held his neck once more, twisting his free wrist around to view the time. It was late enough in the night, by that, it was 7.42, for him to no longer quarrel himself with earthly matters. Especially ones he desired to not divulge into when it contemplated the emotions of another. Whatever he did, Chase didn’t want to question it, for now, standing up to resume the quest for alcohol consumption that was earlier interrupted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just two friends committing treason ✨
> 
> Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed it. Comments and kudos are always appreciated. Fell free to tell me what you think!


	13. Just A Casual Island Hike

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made sure not to stray from my previous promise that I would produce another chapter within a good time limit. And here it is. Although it is not well reflected on here, I want to thank you all for the continued support on other platforms. The personal messages, questions and discussions mean the world to me. Thank you. So now, enjoy.

###  Chapter 13 

Chase managed to put himself to bed properly this time. He didn’t drink himself into a stupor either, an act Julia had scolded him for prematurely. There was no way Chase could incapacitate himself with miniature bottles of weak substances with his tolerance level. He was up at a reasonable time for him, laying with permanently tired eyes on his stomach until a clear stream of sunlight crept under the curtains. The place was genuinely nice, everything smelling fresh, clean and free from an unknown residue that comes with any dangerously cheap accommodation.

The way things were dropped last night between them left Chase, once again, waiting cluelessly for answers throughout the early morning. He made a courteous decision to not discuss what he thought he may have witnessed, even to himself. He filed it away to deal with on another day. Chase was lucky Julia was a punctual person as well, not having to wait too long before she reappeared, knocking at this door.

A few sentences passed around, stuck together with some pleasantries here and there. It all concluded by grabbing their belongings and being on their way. Julia explained that they were to meet six other agents at one of the main ACME offices in the heart of LA. There, Chief was to debrief them on the situation, the mission they were to be a part of.

From the way Julia described it all while they were chauffeured to the meeting location, they were actually, finally, getting to see the action he had waited for. Even if it was all circumstantial for him, Chase still felt a spark of eagerness pulse through his heart just that little stronger.

They arrived at a typical sky rise office building where their attention was directed away from the front entrance. The surrounding city was bustling in all his glory as Julia guided him to the utility entrance, no one around them affording their appearance a second glance. Like she had done before, with a flick of her card they were allowed entry into one of the largest ACME offices in North and South America, a delicate factoid graciously noted by Julia.

At the end of the tight service corridor was a set of silver elevator doors, opening the moment they approached, promptly descending them into the depths. After an increasingly uncomfortable amount of time shoulder to shoulder with his counterpart in the silent ride down, the doors reopened to an expansive foyer with a soft ding.

No matter how accustomed he would become to the idea of being in a secret society, the novelty of it all continued to leave him breathless. Everything was constructed from smooth, flawless light aqua marble. The floors, walls and ceilings bouncing the sound of their heeled shoes around the chamber, noting others echoing far in the distance. He took a second to glance back at the elevator, five more sets lining the wall next to the one they excited from.

It was cold, the air somehow standing still yet able to chill its way between his layers. A faint yet familiar hum that could only be attributed to a smoothly running fridge motor radiated off the walls. At the other end of the hall was a ginormous black screen that hung from the ceiling, looming over them and the oddly normal reception desk, manned by a single soul who sat like a black spec on the horizon. The entire hall was lined with doors, a thin navy carpet separating the two sides with long black ottomans placed along the middle. Everything was perfectly symmetrical, straight and clean. It made him feel oddly sheltered, yet annoyingly bilious at the same time.

He continued to follow Julia as they walked past the row of the doors until she stopped outside one in particular. Without a word, she pressed her card to the handle, and it unlatched, allowing them access to the deliberately poorly lit room.

Six other agents waited inside, a slight murmur of conversation halting as Chase closed the door behind them. Maybe it was his own self reservations and deprecative tendencies taking the wheel, the idea that they were all possibly discussing him made his cheeks burn. Chase was glad the room was dark, watching them all reorganise themselves into a perfect line out of the corner of his eye, before regaining his stoic composure.

This was where her guidance ended, Julia setting her bag atop a conveyor belt type surface next to the door where six others sat. Chase felt compelled to do the same, following her lead for the last time, placing himself next to the others in line. He felt as if he were a criminal in a line-up, awaiting a bombardment of questions from those behind a two-way screen. From experience, he much preferred to be on the other side.

They all stared into the black wall without question in silence, until a blue light appeared from the ceiling, shining down to the floor in front of them. The Chief’s visage phased into view, her hands behind her back as usual.

''Good morning Agents.''

Chief welcomed, in a tone that did not require acknowledgment.

The screen behind her came to life, causing Chase to squint uncontrollably, the blue ACME logo blazing onto the screen behind a stark white background, wishing he had his glasses on hand to shield his eyes.

''I’m sure you are all aware that we are back into our full mode of operations after months of inactivity. So I shall not waste your time with unnecessary contextual explanations.''

As she finished the last word of her statement, an image of a half-burned island appeared on the screen, Chase instantaneously feeling his soul scream for relief from its mortal coil.

''This secluded and preciously undocumented location within the Canary Islands cluster was discovered four months ago after a natural disaster rendering 55% of the island inhabitable by its natural flora and fauna.''

A new picture of a direct bird's-eye view of the devastated island replaced what was before. He couldn't believe his eyes, knowing his face was red judging by the heat he could feel almost vibrating off his cheeks from his palpitating heart. Chase recognised that island the moment it came onto the screen, sending him into immediate paralysing shock. It was the island he travelled to all that time ago. The one he ended up trapped on, then rescued weeks later. The one that almost sent him into a never-ending downward spiral towards insanity.

''A public report by local authorities concluded that at the time of official documented discovery, a wildfire had ravaged most of the Southside of the island. The fire luckily subsided to a well-timed downpour.''

Chase knew he could easily snap each of his fingers in two with how hard he was holding them when the Chief’s pixilated eyes latched onto his with a fiercely knowing expression

''The origin of the ignition is inconclusive.''

She said flatly at him, blinking away equally satisfied with the peril she caused him and the annoyance with his actions. Chase tried not to choke on his own embarrassment. He was shrouded in enough darkness that no one else would bear witness to his dazed, pain-stricken face. There was no way he could pretend the Chief didn’t know he had already been to the place, that he must have caused the desolation. Thing is, he couldn't recall leaving the place in such a way, nor did he ever consider the fire would get so out of hand.

''In all dubiously unannounced and instances like this, our priority is to gain as much knowledge as we can before the worldwide audience takes wind. The United Nations have given us three days to find what we need to prove we require to keep it under our surveillance, permanently. You will be transported directly to Lanzarote within the Canary Islands where a helicopter will take you to the location immediately upon arrival.''

The image changed again to another view of the island that was an untouched sandy beach. Chase felt his fingers throb, having to let go to clutch the back of his coat for support, trying to keep his eyes forward and his expression steady. Each breath was sharp and hitched, trying his best to stay silent and invisible, distancing himself from the compromising situation at hand. There was no doubt in his mind that everyone in this room was aware of his time on the island and his subsequent stay there. At the very least, The Chief and Julia knew of his failure.

''Remain discrete, thorough and abide by the ACME regulations at all times. Good luck Agents.''

The screen behind them flashed back to the ACME title screen as the Chief’s hologram disappeared from existence. The briefing was short and to the point, time now feeling as though it stood still, long enough for him to collect himself before everyone noticed those around them again.

He knew exactly why they were headed there. It was the reason for ACME’s existence as a whole. But if there was one thing he could be confident in, it was they weren't going to find anything on the island, let alone any signs of VILE.

* * *

Chase had to shuffle his feet every few minutes to keep the tips of his shoes above the soft sand sucking him in. He could already feel the granules rolling around the space between his socks and the tip of his shoe. It was unbearably hot standing at the beach as he watched his fellow agents do virtually nothing, tapping away at the tablets and adjusting silver briefcases across a compactable table. The coast beneath his feet and once again over his shoes was blindingly white, at least glad he retrieved his ACME glasses from his bag when given the chance.

It had been nearly two hours of, pretty much, standing around and deliberating about what to do since they got here. It was at the peak heat of the early afternoon and the only decision that had been made in due time was who was to unpack the drone. Something they had still yet to do.

It was clear Chase and Julia had defaulted to the ‘juniors’ in the group, more ‘unpaid interns’ rather than equals. They stood to the side, watching, as the other six agents whispered amongst themselves. It appeared their past transgressions and mistakes had unfortunately marked them as the outliers, the undesirables. They were forced to stand aside and act as witnesses to the rest and their slower than average work ethic.

It was strange to be back on the island after his previous experience here. He was apprehensive as they boarded the helicopter to come here. He remembered how lucky he was to have taken his medication with him when he left on that speed boat. Not that he took them anymore. Chase at the time was unsure of what to expect. If his time here was to be brought up by those around him. If it even mattered at all. Many thoughts swirled around in his mind during the short trip to the secluded island.

Chase at this point in the day was past being unfathomably angry at being more of a decorative ornament than rather a player in the first real ACME agent experience. The whole event being rather lacklustre, the helicopter ride over here the most exciting part of the experience thus far. Before they landed on the untouched beach, the whole island was in their view. Half was dead, covered in ash. Truly a sight more immeasurable in person than some google maps image. It really got his hopes up as he jumped out ready to explore once again, before he was stopped and told firmly to stay put. He argued against it briefly but was flat out ignored to his contempt. They didn’t specifically say he couldn't amble off, but the way that other agent turned around with such disdain in the middle of Chase’s justification said enough.

He was stifled, hot, miserable but most importantly; bored shitless. And he knew for a fact Julia wasn’t having a good time either. After they shunned him, they promptly shunned her. Either directly as a result of him or because she too had fallen victim to unfair circumstances. Chase assumed it was mostly because she was once again tied to him, causing a soulful ache to boil in his chest. Every so often she would adjust her nose up as if to see over their shoulders at what they were doing. Just as excluded as he was at this point. She had her gloved fingers angrily pressed into the tablet clutched to her chest, varying her expressions from a harsh frown to pursed lips. Julia had taken the cold shoulder with a modest dignity when their eyes were upon her. But to their backs, she tried with all her might to clue in on the activities with a less than pleased attitude.

His mind had slipped for far too long, his shoes almost completely submerged in the sand. He grumbled, jerking his legs up and out of the sand for the hundredth time, fed up with being but a background character in his own story. He stepped back a bit to find a new spot to observe from when the wind picked up around, whistling as it circled behind and up the dune that marked the line between beach and jungle.

Eyes up at the rustling foliage above, he had an idea. He was no use to the situation and it had been a while since he was practically told to stay put. Neither of the other agents had turned back to even look at either of them, so slipping away to do some actual detective work seemed plausible. Besides, he already knew nothing was here. The main drive to get away was to simply, _get away_ , for a moment of respite.

Chase removed his hands from his pant pockets, placing his free hands to his hips, keeping his coat off his back and glanced over at Julia. She was still engrossed at the happenings she was not a part of, taking a further step back. He thought about inviting her along. The idea was almost immediately thrown out the window, knowing she’d protest his diversion away from the protocol behaviour. Chase continued his slow backwards walk, trying to stay as invisible as he had been for the last few hours. Soon the shifting ground beneath him began to rise under his heel, now at the incline of the sandy dune. Chase took his chance and swivelled around, stepping into the shifting sand. His entire foot sunk into the side as he propelled himself up, not letting that deter him. His shoes were filled with sand the moment they touched down.

He scrambled up, trying his best not to touch the boiling sand, still able to feel the heat radiating off the sand through his gloves. Messily, he reached the top and quickly jumped into the undergrowth, forcing himself through the branches and dried roots that reached out over the sandy edge. It was already much cooler in the shade, taking his glasses off and wiping the sweat from his forehead on the back of his hand, gazing into the dense yonder.

A smile dared to pinch at the corner of his mouth, pleased with his decision to separate himself from the others who refused to dignify his presence. It filled him with a new sense of energy to finally be doing something other than standing around. His desire to get to work was now in practical use for the first time in a while.

''Chase. Can you possibly abstain from wandering off?''

Chase dropped his shoulders at the sound of Julia’s steps crunching behind him, who loudly rustled through the thick foliage and shrubbery, snapping branches as she went. He turned back to see her messily stepping over the brush, holding her tablet with both hands and above to protect it from her descent into the jungle. He groaned at her insinuation that he was a toddler, folding his glasses up and roughly into his inner coat pocket.

''I am not ‘wandering off’. I am actively attempting to investigate correctly.''

He asserted, fluffing his ACME jacket before wrapping it around his waist, any sense of excitement slightly deflated at her instant reprimanded rather than appearance.

''Unlike those amateur hobbyists collecting rocks and scenery contemplating down on the shore as if on holiday.''

Julia made it out, slapping her pants to clean them off as he mocked those who were safely out of earshot.

''If they so claim that there is something here, _which there is not_ , then I wish to prove it so for myself, with my _own_ eyes in relatively decent time.''

Chase mumbled, buttoning up his coat tightly despite the actuality that he was about to hike through the jungle, acting as if the sweltering heat didn’t exist.

''That doesn’t mean you roam into the wilderness without warning, alone.''

She scolded politely, glancing back over her shoulder. Chase watched her peer down at the scene below, the other agents milling about in the sand and preparing their drones as they had been for hours. Julia turned back, catching his watchful glance and raised her brows as if that proved her point that he should return.

''I am perfectly capable of traversing such environments and do not require your assistance in this matter.''

Chase groused, taking a few steps back past her to look down at the scene himself, peeling back the push with his hand. He heard an abnormal noise from Julia who was to his side, a scoff, instantly catching his attention.

''I find that hard to believe.''

Julia stated dryly, causing Chase to scowl, unamused, turning back. She looked down through her glasses at him, before pushing them back up the bridge of her nose. A small smile danced across her lips, clearly proud of her statement. There was a shell that had most definitely shed in the last week. One that she wore like a sheltering overcoat in the months beforehand. He had to give it to her; her jabbing back didn’t make him as irritated as it initially did. She was already getting good at it, strategically flaunting her various playing cards always at the right time. Intriguing him to an extent into wanting to know who this ‘Julia Argent’ really was instead of leaving her to the sidelines of his foremost thoughts. Chase was not completely sure what caused the turn but assumed it was something to do with the pitiful display she had witnessed courtesy of his brief slip into delirium. Her regard for him was far from reputable anymore. Either way, she was no longer that roaming guide NPC that popped up from time to time. She was a fully-featured and fleshed out character in the cruel, multi-layered game that was his life.

Chase pursed his lips and took a deep breath in at the person who continued to gain respect in categories others would find trivial.

''Then I shall educate you in the ornate skills only I can provide to this partnership.''

He softened his face and attempted to play into the ‘lets mock Chase and his abilities’ theme Julia found most favourable when she liked to snap back. Chase moved his hand off the bush, observing her small sarcastic smile maintain its curl.

''I’d like to see that as I am yet to.''

A commendable jeer at his expense once again made him blink in amusement. Chase was far too occupied with the yearning to be back in the field to let her words sink in, using them instead to further fuel his need to make his way into the jungle, with Julia now in tow. They were a ‘team’ of sorts and it appeared Julia was here to stay, accepting that he would have her along for the ride. Once again he straightened his jacket by tugging at his hem, causing him to take a gander at Julia’s attire. He hadn’t taken full recognition of the differences in her wardrobe, it was not important for him to notice in any other situation than now. Instead of her usual skirt and heels, she wore long pants similar to his own and slightly elevated boots, more suitable to the environment.

''The choice of pants instead of your usual finery as well as closed-in shoes was an optimal call, Miss Argent.''

He marched past, stepping into the dense foliage, hearing Julia push through behind him, his commendation on her choice of uniform strained with his heavy breaths.

''I think my gut knew the possible circumstances today could bring, and guided me accordingly, Mr Devineaux.''

Julia puffed back, saying his name formally, in the same tone as he displayed to her seconds ago.

The jungle was just as dense as he remembered, feeling the sharp branches scratch across his pants and tugged at his jacket. The addition of gloves was a scored bonus, striking through the foliage with a lot less pain than the last trip. Everything was painted in a lush deep green, hints of yellow strewn throughout. No other sound apart from their loud pursuit through the forest floor could be heard. It appeared they were the only living things, apart from the foliage, left on the island. Occasionally, Chase would glance back over his shoulder, to see Julia right behind. Deciding not to let low hanging branches and leaves go, that could potentially hit her right in the face on multiple instances. Once even pausing enough to have her awkwardly smack into his back, as a result of his underestimation of her ability to keep up with his solid pace.

He knew they hadn’t been hiking long, but he was already hot and profoundly stuffy. Having to unbutton his jacket while on the move, making it an easier target to snare on stray branches as he waded through the brush. He could feel drops of sweat forming along his hairline, about to drip down, catching it before it could with a swipe across his forehead then a quick flick of the wrist.

''Since you made it clear you have been here before and have a direct recollection of the surroundings-''

Julia’s voice perked up from behind him, a sense of strain in her voice, pausing slightly as the surroundings suddenly opened up. This extremely physical activity was not stopping her from an obvious bout of sarcasm.

''Mind divulging in where you are going?''

Her voice trailed off in strength as Chase slowed down in reaction to what they both witnessed. The dense jungle had suddenly thinned out. The canopy had thinned, the sky visible above. The sun beamed into the sparse area with all its might, plants around getting smaller as they went. The trees now darkened and singed, only half their size and everything else around it shrivelled. Ash blanked the leafy bed beneath their feet, masking the usual loud crunch they were used to into a softly muffled step.

Chase reached out a hand to one of the remaining established trees. He ran his fingers gently over the scorched bark causing it to disintegrate at his touch, ash now covering his glove and wafting into the air.

The fire that Chief has described and shown from a distant birds-eye image was far more confounding in person. They kept walking in silence, Chase not answering her previous question, looking around at the mess he essentially immortalised in this ashy expanse during his last unscheduled, sequestered stay.

Ravaged was the word Chief used, and she was correct in describing it that way as they made it out to the devastated area. The entire plateau was empty and burnt. No trees remained apart from the few encrusted treelings along the edge of the fire-damaged scene that led back into the untouched jungle. The view stretched on until what looked to be the edge of a cliff in the near distance.

Chase knew his face was plastered with a shocked expression and couldn't wipe it off no matter how hard he tried. He was astounded. That tiny fire that destroyed his fish, his shelter then quickly blew out of control moments before he was saved, did this severe devastation. It was somewhat glorious to think about, more so on how screwed he would have been if he stayed any longer.

''The rain must have fallen not long after it began, stopping it before the fire could burn down the entire island.''

Julia said, Chase, turning to her still wearing a startled look as she glanced behind them. She didn’t look as troubled as he knew he did, turning away in time before their eyes could meet. A shutter noise instantly brought him back, watching Julia hold up her tablet and snap a picture of the scene. She moved her arms back down and brought up the image she just took and viewed it on the screen. Chase leaned over and above, closer to her head, interested to see her photography himself. The image didn’t do the grim expanse any justice. The wind picked up around them, howling through the dead shrubbery and off the ledge that awaited at the end of the plain.

''We don't have much time until they notice we have gone. We should be quick''

Julia switched off the tablet and turned her nose up to Chase who retracted back swiftly. He cleared his throat as he pictured the rest of the agents back on the beach, fiddling with their drones and kicking at the sand.

''Based upon how long it took them to take those drones out of their plastic packaging, I think we have several hours until they even recognise our absence, let alone fly those things before dark.''

Chase slipped a hand under his jacket and to his hip, pushing it aside to allow the breeze to flow beneath his coat, the other hand shifting his tie loose slightly. Julia let out a sigh beside him and moved forward into his view.

''It _did_ take them 30 minutes to exit the helicopter.''

She reasoned, sticking her tablet under her arm to roll up her sleeves a little suffering under the sun's heat too. Julia carried on, Chase following behind, watching her step over obstacles. Both ignored the ground they trod upon and focused on the horizon. The walk to the edge of the mesa was shorter than expected, reaching a sharp drop that looked as if the rocky cliff had been perfectly cut with a sharp knife. The wind picked up, wailing in anguish at the barren landscape it found itself in as they neared the verge, slapping his hair and coat around. The earth beneath their feet crumbled under the weight, not deterring them in the slightest, Julia pressing a finger to her glasses, her own coat flapping against her back. It felt as if the constant gust was trying to suck them down. They simultaneously peered over the edge to a small ridge below, then to the final drop into the starkly green waters that sloshed against the rocks.

On the ridge below, was a perfect circle of blackened ground that Chase instantly noticed as his old fire pit turned jungle fire starter. A twinge of guilt made him shudder, along with the now freezing breeze that swept under his jacket.

''The cliff faces look as though they are only new.''

Julia correctly pointed out, causing Chase to look up and out to the crescent inlet.

''There were reports of an explosion four months ago by a fishing barge nearby at the time. The captain along with other crew members recalled they didn’t see anything, but heard it. Distinctly describing the noise as a set of detonations that lasted several minutes.''

Julia finished her informative statement, Chase listening intently at the information Chief had left out hours beforehand, information that was quite pertinent. She was correct. The cliff sides did look strangely rigid and fresh, almost clean, something he didn't really notice the first time he was here.

''It could explain the well-rounded inlet below and the sharp appearance of this side of the island. Being that the result of an explosion. A _deliberate_ explosion. For this style of land formation isn’t congruent with the rest of the island, nor with the others around.''

She inferred, both turning to glance at one another briefly, sharing the same thought. Chase had a good idea at who the perpetrator to this explosion theory could be, and it was the reason why he came here in the first place.

''It wouldn’t be out the realm of possibilities to speculate that this explosion, was to cover something, or somewhere up after being compromised.''

Julia held up her arms and once again took a picture of the view in front of them before turning the tablet down and frowning. She moved the screen out of her way to look, puzzled, causing Chase to glance down too, needing to know the source of her discomposure.

''There is a charred circle on the elevation below, it somewhat resembles a, campfire?''

Julia questioned, feeling her gaze swivelled onto him instead. He knew more questions would follow, so he decided to beat her to the punch and explained.

''Well. That, _was_ my campfire.''

He admitted, shifting his eyes up briefly to shoot her an accidentally sheepish look.

''Right…''

She answered, turning back to the waters beneath. Julia seemed to understand and not needing further explanation which was a relief to Chase. That didn’t last a long before Julia’s face turned sour once more. She squinted down past her feet at the water, holding her glasses harder to her face. Chase tried to see exactly what she was seeing as she brought her tablet back up sliding her fingers across the screen, using the camera to zoom in. Riveted in what made her so curious he shuffled closer to view the image, seeing something he rather wished he hadn’t.

Under the mostly clear water was what looked to be a submerged boat, one with a familiar white hull with a red stripe down the side. His heart constricted at the site, screwing up his nose and groaned.

''Is that a boat?''

Julia asked openly, probably not expecting an answer from Chase who loomed beside her.

''A speed boat.''

He corrected gloomily, getting a worried glance from his partner. They locked eyes, Julia appearing as if she wanted to say something, then turned away instead and back at the screen.

''I do recall you saying you travelled here in a speed boat.''

Chase let himself watch the swirling water wobble the boat as it lay in its peaceful eternal rest at the bottom of the shallow sea bed.

''I’m still waiting for them to call me about it. Using a fake name probably helped that.''

He confessed. Chase dug his fists into his pocket, hunching his back in a subtle embarrassment at the scene that was unfolding around him, gazing back out to the picturesque cove.

''You had the right idea, just poor execution, I suppose.'

Julia commented her opinion on his previous attempt to discover the truth. That flutter of discomfort dissolved away at her recognition of what he was trying to do, feeling confident enough in himself to look back at her. She smiled nicely and tucked her tablet back away from hanging over the edge. He swallowed, now embarrassed at her humanity, despite his actions directly destroying the ecosystem on this island.

''This has to be the work of VILE.''

She figured, taking a step back from the edge as a gust of wind smacked against his back, causing him to do the same. He kept his eye on the skyline, not a single blimp discerning the view. This side of the island was certainty remote despite being a part of a string of archipelagos. From his previous research into the island, he knew that few ships passed along with no commercial flights above, making it the ideal spot for a hideaway. That, along with strange and even missing documentation about the island made his suspicions previously dismissed come full circle. The sound of Julia stepping away caught his ear, her shoes scraping on rocks, turning himself in the direction with his body as he continued to step back. It felt like the right time to let his inhibitions about his island fiasco be a factor of the discussion. To be perfectly candid for a change.

''I came here-''

Chase began loudly, enough to catch her attention doing so almost instantly, Julia turning back to him, a few good steps away from where they were, Chase squinting down to her. He moved closer, now cold in the breeze that swept around them, squeezing his shoulders in.

''Because my research led me to the conclusion that this place may have some significance to VILE.''

Julia crossed her arms around her body, her tablet tucked within, shivering against the wind, as a cloud moved across the sun. The wind died down a touch, enough for him to easily meet her face to face within the burnt highland.

''Their hideout, you deduced?''

She inquired. As if reading his mind, but it was just her excellent observational skills and foresight in motion. Chase watched her shoulders relax as she waited for him to catch up, so they could walk back across the plain in unison.

''Maybe.''

Chase admitted quietly. He wouldn't let it slip that he also thought this place could be in connection to Carmen Sandiego, upon initial opinions. He had to give it credit to Julia that they were two separate entities at this point. The two groups were working against one another in some form. Not in conjunction. Although, he would need more tangible, physical proof of that and not just word of mouth.

''Though, as you can see, I found nothing when I arrived to prove my theory. And, well, remained here afterwards for far longer than I planned.''

Chase muttered, watching his scuffed dress shoes as they moved across the dry ground, dusty clouds puffing up and around his stride.

''If it means anything, you did beat ACME here. On your own as well.''

Julia gently added on, a compliment to his calibre. He looked up from his feet and to Julia, taken aback at her straightforwardly subtle statement, unsure on how to answer back. He found himself slowing his pace, Julia taking the lead once more. She didn’t seem to notice or maybe decided not to, Chase feeling it best to reinstate a distance between them. Hearing her deal out such a positive remark in his honour made him feel uncomfortable. Julia walked on for a bit, her head turning from side to side every so often surveying the walk back until she suddenly slowed herself. Veering off to the side abruptly, venturing from the clear path back into the jungle.

He watched, catching up to where she once was and stopped. Julia moved with pure direct determination in the other direction, accelerating as Chase looked on bewildered. She then halted, squatted down, reaching to the ground. It was then he recognised the reason for her hustle to this spot, spying a black object poking from the ground. Keeping his hands in his pockets he made his way over, mildly interested in the diversion. The closer he got, the clearer the thing was.

Jutting out of the ground was an object that could only be recognized as a metal chunk of debris heavily warped and dented. It’s only identifiable feature was a sharply pointed corner remaining intact, indicating the object must be squared in shape. It was burnt as well, covered in a roughly stubbled black crust that stood out from it’s mostly light brown and grey desolate surroundings. It would have been a sorry thing if it had been missed, now the most prominent thing in the whole scape. Julia stood the moment he arrived behind her and without looking swung her arm out holding her tablet. She let it slap onto his chest, forcing Chase to rip his hands out of his pant pockets startled at her abruptness, messily cradling the device pushed into his hands.

''Hold this.''

Julia declared sternly as she further rolled up the sleeves on her jacket, folding them neatly to just below her elbows. She leaned down and grabbed onto the side of the mysterious thing in the ground and tugged, lifting it a tiny bit out of the dirt. She readjusted her grip and went again, using her foot to dig it out a little too. Whatever it was, it had been submerged a decent amount into the earth. Chase stood there, like an inanimate coat rack holding her tablet as she made little work at the task, now using her gloved hands to dig it out manually.

The light bulb finally switched on in his brain as he watched, thinking maybe he should help rather than stand there observing her work. Chase quickly stepped back and placed the tablet down carefully on a rock and shook off his jacket. He would rather dirty his white dress shirt than his jacket, rolling up his own sleeves past his elbow before placing the coat on top of the tablet, for safety.

Chase stepped back over and grabbed the free edge of the metallic object where she tried to pull from before, the surface warm to touch through his gloves with its skin flaking away under his grasp. Julia noticed his final arrival on the scene and allowed him some room to pull, already having done good work of removing the ground around it. He adjusted his feet accordingly, the tip of his shoes slipping into the soil and yanked as hard as he could, feeling it move with him. It shifted out slightly, dirt falling in around it, moving back a touch and pulled again, his shoulders burning with strain from the weight. His sleeves tightened around his arms, feeling the creases in the fabric around his biceps constrict under the new heavier weight he found himself holding onto. Slowly, it slid out from its grave, revealing a flat surface free from dents, now resembling more of an empty four-sided 3D rectangle with a thin centre pole. Chase tightened his grip and heaved one last time, now officially freeing it from the soil inside, that had weighed it down further. He had to shuffle back with it partly in his grasp, Julia pushing it from the other end helping effectively. He dropped it down as it dug quickly into his fingers, ash wafting up into the air like thick smoke catching them both off guard, coughing as a result.

Once the dust cleared, it sat atop the dirt in all his mangled glory, bigger than either of them were expecting.

''A tower server case?''

Julia revealed, surprised with a hint of scepticism in her voice, mostly sure what the metal crate was used for. He had no idea how she could be so sure, yet, he was in no position to make any suggestions. Either way, such a civilised object appearing on an untouched island was suspicious. Julia knelt back down and pushed it over, more ash rising up, this time avoiding the cloud. The oversized metal case was hollow and forced in on itself, the centre rod still straight, a few small metal racks cases inside intact, but empty. It looked to be about the same size as Julia in length, a mighty thing. Chase rubbed his fingers into his palms, brushing off the iron particles, kneeling to inspect as well. He placed a hand onto the side that was once beneath the earth, it was far cooler than the side he was holding earlier, running his hand down as Julia pulled out her ACME pen. She clicked it on, a bright light shining out and used it as a torch to inspect the interior.

''The hard drives inside here would have been removed by hand before it was damaged like this. There is no way an explosion, or whatever this was subjected to, would cause what’s inside the protective shell disappear, only leaving the case behind. That being virtually impossible.''

Julia stated, firming down on her opinion that this was definitely a device which was used to store digital information, in large quantities. Chase continued to move his hand along the side as his fingers suddenly glided over a raised, smooth part. He rubbed harder, inspecting it thoroughly with his fingers and felt his heart almost flutter, recognising the pattern indented into the metal.

''Laissez-moi le tourner.''

He said eagerly in French, too excited to translate it into English before speaking out loud. Julia understood, retracting her head out and obliging his wish. He raised his back and pulled the side he wished to see, it rolling with a hollow thud towards the sky. And there it was: A distinctly raised V.I.L.E insignia embedded into the alloy casing, untouched by the fate that distorted all the other sides. His heart quickened its pace to pound in his ears, knowing he was smiling at the revelation.

Chase was right after all, and here was the proof. He let himself laugh in joy and excitement that he was right about this place being notable, his research, obsession actually amounting to something after all. His head felt as if it spun, his eyes unable to adjust with the flurry of positively giddy emotion pumping through his veins.

''Pragmatically accountable evidence.''

He shot his eyes back at Julia, her voice filled with a subdued gratification, trying to maintain a level of professionalism. Despite having just dug in the dirt with her own hands. She looked just as thrilled as he did, of course with a more subtle expression of delight. Less manic in its general tone compared to Chase. Before either of them could spit out a word in association to their excavation, a whirring noise buzzed over their heads, both glancing up at the source. A drone hovered a distance above their position, circling them as it bobbed around. It was ACME, they had been made.

Chase felt his enthusiasm burst spontaneously and fizzle back into nothing, his face dropping back to its usual dismal pout. He had just started to feel like he was alive again, god forbid he enjoy his work.

''Merde…''

He spat, standing in defeat as if he had just been caught mid-way through a crime, kicking at the dirt in annoyance. Julia stood too, dusting off her hands and knees to retrieve her tablet and Chase’s jacket.

Julia let out a solemn sigh, sounding a little disheartened herself, handing over his coat as the drone flew away and over to the cliff’s edge.

''This was inevitable.''

Chase fluffed his jacket back out after rolling his sleeves back down, not really wanting to layer up considering the heat that would meet them back in the jungle, Julia straightening her appearance as well. She held her tablet to her chest; the sun reappearing back from behind the clouds. Julia flipped the tablet out and snapped an image of the well preserved and credible evidence.

''But there is no reason we can’t use this find to _our_ advantage.''

He thought about what she said for a moment while they prepared to make their way back down to the rest of the group, no doubt about to receive a barrage of inquiries for roaming off. ACME was to begin surveillance of this island, but not by hand, meaning that the discovery would have most likely been missed if not for their slip away. A well-calculated thought bounced around prominently in his mind that seemed worth sharing. It was a tantalizing prospect that really rounded off the route they were set and destined to take.

''A distraction.''

Chase confidently wondered openly. His statement to which Julia acknowledged with a simple nod and satisfied smile as they entered back into the jungle. It seemed they were officially on the same page.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Moment of silence for the wildlife that used to live on VILE isle after an explosion destroyed half of it then fire the rest.


End file.
